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I 


Saragossa 


When  the  other  events  of  the  Spanish  ivar  shall  be  lost  in 
the  obscurity  of  time,  or  only  traced  by  disconnected  fragments, 
the  story  of  Zaragoza,  like  some  ancient  triumphal  pillar 
standing  amidst  ruins,  tvill  tell  a  tale  of  past  glory,  and 
already  men  point  to  the  heroic  city  and  call  her  Spain. 

Napier's  '*  Peninsular  War  '* 


SARAGOSSA 


A  Story  of  Spanish  Valor 


AUTHORIZED    TRANSLATION    FROM    THE    ORIGINAL 

'<'0  OF 

BJ^'^PEREZ    galdos 

// 

BY 

MINNA    CAROLINE    SMITH 


I 


-> 

3* , » .   .....     », • ,  , 

BOSTON 

LITTLE, 

BROWN,    AND 
1899 

COMPANY 

Copyright,  i8gg^ 
By  Little,  Brown,  and  Company 


All  rights  resewed 


John  Wilson  and  Son,  Cambridge,  U.  S.  A. 


0^  i> 


TRANSLATOR'S    INTRODUCTION 

SARAGOSSA"  is  the  sixth  volume  in 
the  brilHant  series  of  historical  novels 
by  B.  Perez  Galdos,  which  begins  with  "  Tra- 
falgar **  and  closes  with  "  The  Battle  of  the  Ara- 
piles,"  embracing  "  The  Court  of  Carlos  IV," 
"  Gerona,"  and  "  Napoleon  in  Chamartin." 

B.  Perez  Galdos,  possibly  known  best  in  the 
United  States  as  the  author  of  "  Doiia  Per- 
fecta,"  may  be  called  the  Walter  Scott  of  Spain. 
He  is,  however,  truer  to  history  than  Scott, 
and  the  characters  he  creates  move  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  reality  rather  than  romance.  "Sara- 
gossa"  is  one  of  the  most  powerful,  impressive, 
and  popular  of  the  twenty  novels  wherein  he 
tells  the  gallant  story  of  his  native  land.  This 
tale  of  the  second  siege  of  the  ancient  Aragon 
city  by  the  generals  of  Napoleon  is  a  work  of 
art,  one  that  stirs  the  blood  with  admiration 
of  the  indomitable  valor  of  the  Spaniards  ;  yet 
is  it  not  also  a  document  of  special  pleading 
for  the  world's  peace  ?  "  Saragossa  "  ranks  with 
Tolstoi's  "  War  and  Peace,"  and  Zola's  "  La 
Debacle,"  among  great  dramatic  war  novels. 
Herein  also  are  at  least  three  of  the  best  drawn 


Mi  'X^'^'xrj 


Translator's   Introduction 

characters  in  international  literature,  —  the  mas- 
terly miser  Candida,  his  beautiful  daughter 
Mariquilla,  and  that  valiant  and  lovable  citizen, 
Don  Jose  de  Montoria.  Manuela  Sanchez  ap- 
pears as  a  minor  character,  the  "  Maid  of  Sara- 
gossa "  whose  bravery  is  honored  in  a  street 
named  for  her  in  her  native  city.  She  is  a  type 
of  the  daughters  of  Saragossa,  for  more  than  one 
of  them,  in  the  exaltation  of  the  terrific  struggle 
against  the  French,  extended  their  patriotic 
services  beyond  those  gentle  ones  usual  to 
women  in  besieged  cities,  rallying  soldiers  and 
serving  guns. 

The  events  leading  up  to  the  siege  of  Sara- 
gossa are  a  part  of  the  history  of  Spain  in  her 
struggle  for  continued  national  existence  against 
the  encroachments  of  Napoleon.  Although 
it  was  national  warfare,  each  province  and 
strong  provincial  city  made  its  own  individual 
stand.  Therefore  words  like  those  quoted  on  a 
preceding  page  from  Napier's  "  Peninsular 
War"  have  an  especial  significance.  The  Eng- 
lish general's  words  are  doubly  striking  when 
read  in  connection  with  these  of  Galdos, 
"  Men  of  little  sense  —  without  any  on  occa- 
sion—  the  Spanish  to-day,  as  ever,  make  a 
thousand  blunders,  stumbling  and  rising  in  the 
struggle  of  their  inborn  vices  with  the  eminent 
qualities  which  they  still  preserve.     Providence 

vi 


Translator's   Introduction 

holds  in  store  for  this  people  great  advancings 
and  abasements,  great  terrors  and  surprises, 
apparent  deaths  and  mighty  resurrections." 

The  threatened  loss  of  her  nationality  was 
the  terror  which  hung  above  Spain  in  the  dark 
days  of  1808.  Her  court  was  rent  with  fac- 
tions ;  her  royal  house  was  divided  against 
itself.  Three  parties  had  made  dissension  in 
the  palace  and  among  the  people.  One  was 
the  party  of  the  King  Carlos  IV ;  one  was 
that  of  his  son,  Prince  Ferdinand ;  the  third, 
of  a  most  insidious  power,  was  that  of  Don 
Manuel  Godoy,  whose  ambitions  and  preten- 
sions were  supported  by  the  queen.  A  corrupt 
court  and  an  intriguing  priesthood  had  pro- 
moted the  troubles  of  Spain,  causing  king, 
prince,  and  favorite,  each  and  separately,  to 
make  application  to  Napoleon  for  protec- 
tion, and  for  the  support  of  their  various 
plans.  The  imbecility  of  the  Spanish  Bour- 
bons at  such  an  hour  in  European  his- 
tory was  inevitable  in  its  influence  upon  the 
Emperor  of  the  French.  His  ambition  grew 
with  this  new  opportunity.  Under  the  mask 
of  operating  with  Spain  against  Portugal, 
Napoleon  filled  the  Peninsula  with  French 
troops  under  generals  like  Junot  and  Moncey 
and  Lannes.  The  Spanish  king  and  prince 
were    already    in    France,    and    practically    in 

vii 


Translator's   Introduction 

durance  there,  before  the  people  realized  the 
danger  which  was  close  upon  their  very  exist- 
ence as  a  nation.  Popular  insurrections  at 
Toledo  and  Madrid  followed  immediately 
upon  the  appointment  of  Murat  to  a  place  in 
the  government.  The  abdication  at  Bayonne 
of  Carlos  IV  in  favor  of  Napoleon,  and  the 
appointment  of  Joseph  Bonaparte  as  king 
of  Spain,  with  the  consent  of  ninety-one 
Spanish  nobles,  roused  the  Peninsula  into 
a  spontaneous  and  determined  revolt.  War 
against  the  French  invaders  was  already  raging 
in  every  province  when  King  Joseph  was 
crowned  at  Madrid  on  July  24.  Thus  in  the 
virtue  of  her  people  began  the  long  struggle 
of  Spain  for  independence  as  a  nation,  —  a 
struggle  which  was  destined  not  to  end  until 
England  came  to  her  aid,  and  the  Duke  of 
Wellington  delivered  her  from  the  power  of 
France. 

Saragossa,  although  situated  in  an  admirably 
strong  strategic  position  between  the  French 
border  and  the  Spanish  capital,  was  not  occu- 
pied by  the  French  in  force  at  first,  because 
the  character  of  the  Saragossans  made  it  unwise 
to  attempt  to  place  a  small  body  of  foreign 
troops  among  them,  and  Saragossa  —  Zaragoza 
in  Spanish  —  had  no  citadel.  Napoleon  him- 
self could   not  foresee  what  a  tremendous  de- 

viii 


Translator's   Introduction 

fence  would  be  made,  nor  that  fifty  thousand 
dead  would  yet  speak  from  this  city  of  Aragon 
to  arouse  the  courage  of  Spain.  The  first 
siege  lasted  from  mid-June  to  mid- August,  and 
was  raised  not  only  because  the  defence  was 
fierce,  desperate,  and  unflinchingly  prolonged, 
and  because  the  besieging  army  under  Verdier 
was  greatly  weakened,  but  also  because  disas- 
ters to  the  French  arms  elsewhere  made  its 
abandonment  imperative.  After  the  invaders 
had  been  victorious  at  Tudela,  Aragon  was 
open  to  them.  Forty  thousand  French  troops 
—  General  Napier  says  thirty-five  thousand  — 
besieged  the  capital  of  the  province  whither  a 
large  part  of  the  army  of  Castanos  and  many 
other  fugitives  had  fled  after  their  defeat. 

The  second  and  successful  siege,  with  whose 
events  this  novel  is  occupied,  continued  for  two 
long  and  fatal  months,  from  the  twentieth  of  De- 
cember of  that  same  dark  year  until  the  twenty- 
first  of  the  following  February.  During  this 
time  of  horror  and  of  braverv,  there  were  also 
laughter  and  song,  dancing  and  love-making  in 
Saragossa,  and  such  an  idyl  of  tenderness  and 
passion  as  this  story  of  Augustine  and  Mariquilla 
which  is  now  offered  to  readers  of  English. 

M.  C.  S. 


IX 


\ 


SARAGOSSA 

A    STORY    OF   SPANISH   VALOR 


CHAPTER   I 

IT  was,  I  believe,  the  evening  of  the  eight- 
eenth when  we  saw  Saragossa  in  the  dis- 
tance. As  we  entered  by  the  Puerta  de  Sancho 
we  heard  the  clock  in  the  Torre  Nueva  strike 
ten.  We  were  in  an  extremely  pitiful  condi- 
tion as  to  food  and  clothing.  The  long  journey 
we  had  made  from  Lerma  through  Salas  de 
los  Infantes,  Cervera,  Agreda,  Tarazona, 
and  Borja,  climbing  mountains,  fording  rivers, 
making  short  cuts  until  we  arrived  at  the  high 
road  of  Gallur  and  Alagon,  had  left  us  quite 
used  up,  worn  out,  and  ill  with  fatigue.  In 
spite  of  all,  the  joy  of  being  free  sweetened  our 
pain. 

We  were  four  who  had  succeeded  in  escap- 
ing between  Lerma  and  Cogollos  by  freeing 
our  innocent  hands  from  the  rope  that  bound 
together  so  many  patriots.     On  the  day  of  the 


Saragossa 

escape,  we  could  count  among  the  four  of  us  a 
total  capital  of  eleven  reales ;  but  after  three 
days  of  marching,  when  we  entered  the  metrop- 
olis of  Aragon  and  balanced  our  mutual  cash, 
our  common  wealth  was  found  to  be  a  sum  total 
of  thirty-one  cuartos.  We  bought  some  bread 
at  a  little  place  next  the  Orphanage,  and  divided 
it  among  us. 

Don  Roque,  who  was  one  of  the  members 
of  our  expedition,  had  good  connections  in 
Saragossa,  but  this  was  not  an  hour  to  present 
ourselves  to  any  one.  We  postponed  until 
the  next  day  this  matter  of  looking  up  friends ; 
and  as  we  could  not  go  to  an  inn,  we  wandered 
about  the  city,  looking  for  a  shelter  where  we 
could  pass  the  night.  The  market  scarcely 
seemed  to  offer  exactly  the  comfort  and  quiet 
which  our  tired  bodies  needed.  We  visited 
the  leaning  tower,  and  although  one  of  my 
companions  suggested  that  we  should  take 
refuge  in  the  plaza,  I  thought  that  we  should 
be  quite  the  same  as  if  altogether  in  the 
open  country.  The  place  served  us,  none  the 
less,  for  temporary  refuge  and  rest,  and  also  as 
a  refectory,  where  we  despatched  happily  our 
supper  of  dry  bread,  glancing  now  and  then  at 
the  great  upright  mass  of  the  tower,  whose  in- 
clination made  it  seem  like  a  giant  leaning  to 


Saragossa 

see  who  was  running  about  his  feet.  By  the 
light  of  the  moon  that  brick  sentinel  projected 
against  the  sky  its  huddled  and  shapeless  form, 
unable  to  hold  itself  erect.  The  clouds  were 
drifting  across  its  top,  and  the  spectator  look- 
ing from  below  trembled  with  dread,  imagining 
that  the  clouds  were  quiet  and  that  the  tower 
was  moving  down  upon  him.  This  grotesque 
structure,  under  whose  feet  the  overburdened 
soil  has  settled,  seems  to  be  forever  falling,  yet 
never  falls. 

We  passed  through  the  avenue  of  the  Coso 
again  from  this  house  of  giants  as  far  as  the 
Seminary.  We  went  through  two  streets,  the 
Calle  Quemada  and  the  Calle  del  Rincon,  both 
in  ruins,  as  far  as  the  little  plaza  of  San 
Miguel.  From  here,  passing  from  alley  to 
alley,  and  blindly  crossing  narrow  and  irjegular 
streets,  we  found  ourselves  beside  theN^uins  of 
the  monastery  of  Santa  Engracia,  whicH  was 
blov/n  up  by  the  French  at  the  raising  of  the 
first  siege.  The  four  of  us  exclaimed  at  once 
in  a  way  to  show  that  we  all  thought  the  same 
thing.  Here  we  had  found  a  shelter,  and  in 
some  cosy  corner  under  this  roof  we  would 
pass  the  night ! 

The  front  wall  was  still  standing  with  its 
arch    of  marble,   decorated   with    innumerable 

3 


Saragossa 

figures  of  saints  which  seemed  undisturbed  and 
tranquil  as  if  they  knew  nothing  of  the  catas- 
trophe. In  the  interior  we  saw  broken  arches 
and  enormous  columns  struggling  erect  from 
the  debris,  presenting  themselves,  darkling  and 
deformed,  against  the  clear  light  flooding  the 
enclosure,  looking  like  fantastic  creatures  gen- 
erated by  a  delirious  imagination.  We  could 
see  decorations,  cornices,  spaces,  labyrinths, 
caverns,  and  a  thousand  other  fanciful  archi- 
tectural designs  produced  by  the  ruins  in  their 
falling.  There  were  even  small  rooms  opened 
in  the  spaces  of  the  walls  with  an  art  like  that 
of  Nature  in  forming  grottos.  The  fragments 
of  the  altar-piece  that  had  rotted  because  of  the 
humidity  showed  through  the  remains  of  the 
vaulting  where  still  hung  the  chains  which  had 
suspended  the  lamps.  Early  grasses  grew  be- 
tween the  cracks  of  the  wood  and  stone.  Among 
all  this  destruction  there  were  certain  things 
wholly  intact,  as  some  of  the  pipes  of  the  organ 
and  the  grating  of  the  confessional.  The  roof 
was  one  with  the  floor,  and  the  tower  mingled 
its  fragments  with  those  of  the  tombs  below. 
When  we  looked  upon  such  a  conglomeration 
of  tombs,  such  a  myriad  of  fragments  that  had 
fallen  without  losing  entirely  their  original 
form,  and   such  masses  of  bricks  and  plaster 

4 


Saragossa 

crumbled  like  things  made  of  sugar,  we  could 
almost  believe  that  the  ruins  of  the  building 
had  not  yet  settled  into  their  final  position. 
The  shapeless  structure  appeared  to  be  palpi- 
tating yet  from  the  shock  of  the  explosion. 

Don  Roque  told  us  that  beneath  this  church 
there  was  another  one  where  they  worshipped 
the  relics  of  the  holy  martyrs  of  Saragossa  ;  but 
the  entrance  to  this  subterranean  sanctuary  was 
closed  up.  Profound  silence  reigned,  but,  pen- 
etrating further,  we  heard  human  voices  pro- 
ceeding from  those  mysterious  deeps.  The 
first  impression  produced  upon  us  by  hearing 
these  voices  was  as  if  the  spirits  of  the  famous 
chroniclers  who  wrote  of  the  Christian  martyrs, 
and  of  the  patriots  sleeping  in  dust  below, 
were  crying  out  upon  us  for  disturbing  their 
slumbers. 

On  the  instant,  in  the  glare  of  a  flame  which 
illuminated  part  of  the  scene,  we  distinguished 
a  group  of  persons  sheltering  themselves,  hud- 
dling together  in  a  space  between  two  of  the 
fallen  columns.  They  were  Saragossa  beggars, 
who  had  made  a  palatial  shelter  for  themselves 
in  that  place,  seeking  protection  from  the 
rain  with  beams  of  wood  and  with  their  rags. 
We  also  made  ourselves  as  comfortable  as 
might  be  in  another  place,  and   covering  our- 

5 


Saragossa 

selves  with  a  blanket  and  a  half,  prepared  to  go 
to  sleep. 

Don  Roque  said  to  me,  "  I  know  Don 
Jose  de  Montoria,  one  of  the  richest  citizens  of 
Saragossa.  ~Wewere  both  born  in  Mequinenza. 
We  went  to  school  together,  and  we  played 
our  games  together  on  the  hills  of  Corregidor. 
It  is  thirty  years  since  I  have  seen  him,  but  I 
believe  that  he  will  receive  us  well.  Like 
every  good  Aragonese,  he  is  all  heart.  We 
will  find  him,  fellows  ;  we  will  see  Don  Jose 
de  Montoria.  I  am  of  his  blood  on  the 
maternal  side.  We  will  present  ourselves  to 
him.     We  will  say  —  " 

But  Don  Roque  was  asleep,  and  I  also  slept. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  place  where  we  lay  down  did  not  by 
any  blandishments  invite  us  to  sleep  lux- 
uriously until  morning,  and  certainly  a  mattress 
of  broken  stones  is  conducive  to  early  rising. 
We  wakened  with  the  dawn;  and  as  we  had 
to  spend  no  time  in  making  a  toilet  before  a 
dressing-table,  we  were  soon  ready  to  go  out 
and  pay  our  visits. 

The  idea  came  to  all  four  of  us  at  once 
that  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  some 
breakfast,  but  at  the  same  time  we  agreed 
unanimously  that  it  was  impossible,  as  we  had 
not  the  wherewithal  to  carry  out  such  a  high 
purpose. 

"  Don't  be  discouraged,  boys,"  said  Don 
Roque ;  "  because  very  soon  I  will  take  you 
all  to  the  house  of  my  friend,  who  will  take 
good  care   of  us." 

While  he  was  saying  this,  we  saw  emerging 
from  our  inn  two  men  and  a  woman,  of  those 
who  had  been  our  companions  there.  They 
looked  as  if  they  were  accustomed  to  sleep  in 
the  place.     One  of  them  was  a  cripple,  a  poor 

7 


Saragossa 

unfortunate  who  ended  at  his  knees,  and  put 
himself  in  motion  by  the  aid  of  crutches,  swing- 
ing himself  forward  on  them  as  if  by  oars.  He 
was  an  old  man,  with  a  jovial  face  well  burned 
by  the  sun.  As  he  saluted  us  very  pleasantly 
in  passing,  wishing  us  a  good-morning,  Don 
Roque  asked  him  in  what  part  of  the  city  was 
the  house  of  Don  Jose  de  Montoria.  The 
cripple   replied :  — 

"  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  ?  I  know  him  as 
if  he  were  the  apple  of  my  eye.  It  is  twenty 
years  since  he  used  to  live  in  the  Calle  de  le 
Albarderia.  Afterwards  he  moved  to  another 
street,  the  Calle  de  la  Parra,  then, —  but  you  are 
strangers,  I  see.'* 

/^  Yes,  my  good  friend,  we  are  strangers;  and 
have  come  to  enlist  with  the  troops  of  this 
brave  city." 

"Then  you  were  not  here  on  the  fourth  of 
August  ?  '* 

"  No,    my   friend,"    I    answered   him ;   "  we 

were  not  present  at  that  great  feat  of  arms." 

"  You    did   not  see    the    battle  of  Eras  ?  " 

asked  the  beggar,  sitting  down  in  front  of  us. 

"  We  did  not  have  that  felicity  either." 

"Well,  Don  Jose  Montoria  was  there.     He 

was  one  of  those  who  pulled  the  cannon  into 

place  for  firing.     Well,   well,  I    see   that  you 

8 


Saragossa 

have  n't  seen  a  thing.  From  what  part  of  the 
world  do  you  come  ?  " 

"  From  Madrid,'*  said  Don  Roque.  "  So 
you  are  not  able  to  tell  me  where  my  dear 
friend    Don   Jose  lives  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  should  think  I  can,  man,  well,  I 
should  think  I  can ! "  answered  the  cripple, 
taking  from  his  pocket  a  crust  of  dry  bread  for 
his  breakfast.  "  From  the  Calle  de  la  Parra 
he  moved  to  the  Calle  de  Enmedio.  You  know 
that  all  those  houses  were  blown  up.  There 
was  Stephen  Lopez,  a  soldier  of  the  Tenth 
Company  of  the  First  Regiment  of  Aragon 
Volunteers,  and  he  alone,  with  forty  men, 
himself  forced  the  French  to  retire." 

"  That  must  have  been  a  fine  thing  to  see  !  " 
said  Don  Roque. 

"  Oh,  if  you  did  not  see  the  fourth  of 
August  you  have  seen  nothing,"  continued 
the  beggar.  "  I  myself  also  saw  the  fourth  of 
June,  because  I  was  crawling  along  the  Calle 
de  le  Paja,  and  I  saw  the  woman  who  fired  off 
the  big  cannon." 

"  We  have  already  heard  of  the  heroism  of 
that  noble  woman,"  said  Don  Roque;  "but  if 
you  could  make  up  your  mind  to  tell  us  —  " 

"Oh,  of  course.  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  is 
a  great   friend  of  the   merchant  Don   Andres 

9 


Saragossa 

Guspide,  who  on  the  fourth  of  August  was  fir- 
ing from  near  the  narrow  street  of  the  Torre 
del  Pino.  Hand-grenades  and  bullets  were 
raining  all  about  him,  and  my  Don  Andres 
stood  like  a  rock.  More  than  a  hundred  dead 
lay  about  him,  and  he  alone  killed  fifty  of  the 
French." 

'^  Great  man,  this  one  !  And  he  is  a  friend 
of  my  friend  ?  " 

"  Yes,  seiior,"  replied  the  cripple ;  "  and 
they  are  two  of  the  best  gentlemen  in  all  Sara- 
gossa, and  they  give  me  a  little  something 
every  Saturday.  For  you  must  know  that  I 
am  Pepe  Pallejas,  and  they  call  me  Sursum 
Corda,  as  twenty-four  years  ago  I  was  sacris- 
tan of  the  Church  of  Jesus,  and   I    used    to 

sing But  this  is  not  coming  to  the  point, 

and  I  was  going  on  to  say  I  am  Sursum  Corda, 
and  perhaps  you  have  heard  about  me  in 
Madrid  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Don  Roque,  yielding  to  his 
generous  impulses ;  "  it  seems  to  me  that  I 
have  heard  the  Senor  Sursum  Corda  men- 
tioned there,  have  n*t  we,  boys  ? " 

"Well,  it  *s  likely,  and  you  must  know  that 
before  the  siege  I  used  to  beg  at  the  door  of 
this  monastery  of  Santa  Engracia,  which  was 
blown  up  by  the  bandits  on  the  thirteenth  of 

lO 


Saragossa 

August.  I  beg  now  at  the  Puerta  de  Jerusalem, 
at  the  Jerusalem  Gate  —  where  you  will  be 
able  to  find  me  whenever  you  like.  Well,  as 
1  was  saying,  on  the  fourth  of  August  I  was 
here,  and  I  saw  Francisco  Quilez  come  out  of 
the  church,  first  sergeant  of  the  First  Com- 
pany of  fusileers,  who,  you  must  already 
know,  with  thirty-five  men,  cast  out  the  bandits 
from  the  Convent  of  the  Incarnation.  I  see 
that  you  look  surprised  —  yes  !  Well,  in  the 
orchard  of  the  convent  at  the  back  is  where 
the  Lieutenant  Don  Miguel  Gila  died.  There 
are  at  the  least  two  hundred  bodies  in  that 
orchard ;  and  there  Don  Felipe  San  Clement,  a 
merchant  of  Saragossa,  broke  both  his  legs. 
Indeed,  if  Don  Miguel  Salamero  had  not 
been  present  —  don't  you  know  anything 
about  that  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,  my  friend,"  said  Don  Roque  ;  "  we 
don't  know  anything  about  it,  and  although  we 
have  the  greatest  pleasure  in  your  telling  us  of 
so  many  wonders,  what  most  concerns  us  now 
is  to  find  out  where  we  are  going  to  find  my 
old  friend  Don  Jose.  We  four  are  suffering 
from  a  disease  called  hunger,  which  cannot  be 
cured  by  listening  to  the  recounting  of  sub- 
limities." 

"Well,  now,  in  a  minute    I    will  take  you 

I  [ 


Saragossa 


where  you  want  to  go,"  replied  (Sursum  Corda, 
offering  us  a  part  of  his  crust;"""  but  first  I 
will  tell  you  something,  and  that  is  that 
if  Don  Mariano  Cereso  had  not  defended 
the  Castle  Aljaferia  as  he  did  defend  it,  noth- 
ing would  have  been  done  in  the  Portillo 
quarter.  And  this  man,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
this  man  was  Don  Mariano  Cereso  !  Dur- 
ing the  attack  of  the  fourth  of  August,  he 
used  to  walk  in  the  streets  with  his  sword 
in  its  antique  sheath.  It  would  terrify  you 
to  see  him !  This  Santa  Engracia  quarter 
seemed  like  a  furnace,  senors.  The  bombs 
and  the  hand-grenades  rained  down ;  but  the 
patriots  did  not  mind  them  airyjnpre  than  so 
man^Idtops  of  water.  A  good  part  of  the 
convent  fell  down ;  the  houses  trembled,  and 
all  this  that  we  see  seemed  no  more  than  a  bar- 
rier of  playing  cards,  by  the  way  it  caught  fire 
and  crumbled  away.  Fire  in  the  windows,  fire 
at  the  top,  fire  at  the  base !  The  French  fell 
like  flies,  fell  like  flies,  gentlemen.  *v_And  as  for 
the  Saragossans,  life  and  death  were  all  the 
same  to  them.  Don  Antonio  Quadros  went 
through  there,  and  when  he  looked  at  the 
French  batteries,  he  was  in  a  state  to  swallow 
them  whole.  The  bandits  had  sixty  cannon 
vomiting  fire  against  the  walls.     You  did  not 

12 


Saragossa 

see  it  ?  Well,  I  saw  it,  and  the  pieces  of  brick 
of  the  wall  and  the  earth  of  the  parapets  scat- 
tered like  crumbs  of  a  loaf.  But  the  dead 
served  as  a  barricade,  —  the  dead  on  top,  the 
dead  below,  a  perfect  mountain  of  the  dead. 
Don  Antonio's  eyes  shot  flame.  The  boys  fired 
without  stopping.  Their  souls  were  all  made 
of  bullets  !  Did  n't  you  see  it  ?  Well,  I  did, 
and  the  French  batteries  were  all  cleaned  out 
of  gunners.  When  he  saw  one  of  the  enemy's 
cannon  was  without  men,  the  commander 
shouted,  '  An  epaulet  to  the  man  who  spikes 
that  cannon !  '  Pepillo  Ruiz  started  and 
walked  up  to  it  as  if  he  was  promenading  in  a 
garden  among  butterflies  and  may  flowers,  only 
here  the  butterflies  were  bullets,  and  the  flow- 
ers were  bombs.  Pepillo  Ruiz  spiked  the 
cannon,  and  came  back  laughing.  And  now 
another  part  of  the  convent  was  falling  down. 
Whoever  was  smashed  by  it,  remained  smashed! 
Don  Antonio  Quadros  said  that  that  did  not 
bother  him  any,  and  seeing  that  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries had  opened  a  large  hole  in  the  wall,  went 
to  stuff  it  full  of  bags  of  wool.  Then  a  bullet 
struck  him  in  the  head.  They  brought  him 
here ;  he  said  that  was  nothing  either,  and  died." 
"Oh,"  said  Don  Roque,  impatiently,  "we 
are  sufficiently  astonished,  Senor  Sursum  Corda, 

13 


Saragossa 

and  the  most  pure  patriotism  inflames  us  to  hear 
you  relate  such  great  deeds  ;  but  if  you  could 
only  make  up  your  mind  to  tell  us  where — " 
"  Good  Lord  !  "  exclaimed  the  beggar, 
"  who  said  I  would  n't  tell  you  ?  If  there  is 
any  one  thing  I  know  better  than  another, 
and  have  seen  most  of  anything  in  my  life,  it 
is  the  house  of  Don  Jose  de  Montoria.  It 
is  near  the  San  Pablo.  Oh,  you  did  not  see 
the  hospital?  Well,  I  saw  it.  There  the 
bombs  fell  like  hail ;  the  sick,  seeing  that  the 
roofs  were  falling  down,  threw  themselves  from 
the  windows  into  the  street.  Others  crawled 
or  rolled  down  the  stairs.  The  partitions 
burned,  and  you  could  hear  wailings.  The 
lunatics  bellowed  in  their  cages  like  mad  beasts. 
Many  of  them  escaped  and  went  through  the 
cloisters,  laughing  and  dancing  with  a  thousand 
fantastic  gestures  that  were  frightful  to  see. 
They  came  out  into  the  street  as  on  carnival 
day  ;  and  one  climbed  the  cross  in  the  Coso, 
where  he  began  a  harangue,  saying  that  he  was 
the  River  Ebro,  and  he  would  run  over  the 
city  and  put  out  the  fire.  The  women  ran  to 
care  for  the  sick,  who  were  all  carried  off  to 
Del  Pilar  and  to  La  Seo.  You  could  not  get 
through  the  streets.  Signals  were  given  from 
the  Torre  Nueva  whenever  a  bomb  was  com- 

14 


Saragossa 

ing,  but  the  uproar  of  the  people  prevented 
their  hearing  the  bells.  The  French  advanced 
by  this  street  of  Santa  Engracia.  They  took 
possession  of  the  hospital  and  of  the  Convent 
of  San  Francisco.  The  fighting  began  in  the 
quarter  of  the  Coso,  and  in  the  streets  there- 
abouts. Don  Santiago  Sas,  Don  Mariano 
CeresOj  Don  Lorenzo  Calvo,  Don  Marcos 
Simono,  Renovales,  Martin  Albantos,  Vicente 
Code,  Don  Vicente  Marraco,  and  others  fear- 
lessly attacked  the  French.  And  behind  a 
barricade  made  by  herself^  awaited  them, 
furious,  gun  in  hand,  the  Countess  de  Bureta.T"" 

"  What  a  woman,  a  countess,  making  barri- 
cades and  firing  guns ! "  cried  Don  Roque, 
enthusiastically. 

"You  did  not  know  it?"  he  returned. 
"  Well,  where  do  you  live  ?  The  Senora 
Maria  Consolacion  Azlor  y  Villavicencio,  who 
lives  near  the  Ecce  Homo,  also  walked  through 
the  streets,  saying  words  of  good  cheer  to 
those  who  were  discouraged.  Afterwards  she 
made  them  close  the  entrance  to  the  street, 
and  herself  took  the  lead  of  a  party  of  peas- 
ants, crying,  '  Here  we  will  all  die  before  we 
will  let  them  pass  !  *  " 

"  Oh,  what  sublime  heroism  !  "  exclaimed 
Don    Roque,  yawning  with   hunger.     "  How 

15 


Saragossa 

much  I  should  enjoy  hearing  those  tales  of 
heroism  told  on  a  full  stomach  !  So  you  say 
that  the  house  of  Don  Jose  is  to  be  found  —  " 

"  It  is  just  around  there,"  said  the  cripple. 
"  You  know  already  that  the  French  had  en- 
tangled themselves  and  stuck  fast  near  the 
Arch  of  Cineja.  Holy  Virgin  del  Pilar,  but 
that  was  where  they  killed  off  the  French! 
The  rest  of  the  day  was  nothing  beside  it. 
In  the  Calle  de  la  Parra  and  the  Square  of 
Estrevedes,  in  the  Calles  de  los  Urreas,  Santa 
Fe,  and  Del  Azoque,  the  peasants  cut  the 
French  to  pieces.  The  cannonading  and  the 
roar  of  that  day  still  ring  in  my  ears.  The 
French  burned  down  the  houses  that  they  could 
not  defend,  and  the  Saragossans  did  the  same. 
There  was  firing  on  every  side.  Men,  women, 
and  children,  —  it  was  enough  to  have  two 
hands  to  fight  against  the  enemy.  And  you 
did  not  see  it  ?  You  really  have  seen  nothing 
at  all  !  Well,  as  I  was  saying,  Palafox  came 
out  of  Saragossa  towards  —  " 

"  That 's     enough,    my    friend,"    said    Don 

Roque,   losing  patience.       "  We  are   charmed 

with   your  conversation  ;  but  if  you   can   take 

us  this  instant  to  the  house  of  my  friend,  or 

direct  us   so  that  we  can  find  it,  we  will  go 

along." 

i6 


Saragossa 

"  In  a  minute,  gentlemen.  Don't  hurry," 
replied  Sursum  Corda,  starting  off  in  advance 
with  all  the  agility  of  which  his  crutches  were 
capable.  "  Let  us  go  there.  Let  us  go,  with 
all  my  heart.  Do  you  see  this  house  ?  Well, 
here  lives  Antonio  Laste,  first  sergeant  of  the 
Fourth  Company  of  Regulars,  and  you  must 
know  he  saved  from  the  treasury  sixteen  thou- 
sand, four  hundred  pesos,  and  took  from  the 
French  the  candles  that  they  stole  from  the 
church." 

"  Go  on  ahead,  go  on,  friend,"  I  said,  see- 
ing that  this  indefatigable  talker  intended 
stopping  to  give  all  the  details  of  the  heroism 
of  Antonio  Laste. 

"  We  shall  arrive  soon,"  replied  Sursum ; 
"  on  the  morning  of  the  first  of  July  I  was 
going  past  here,  when  I  encountered  Hilario 
Lafuente,  first  corporal  of  fusileers  of  the 
Parish  of  Sas,  and  he  said  to  me,  '  To-day 
they  are  going  to  attack  the  Portillo ; '  then  I 
went  to  see  what  there  was  to  see  and  —  " 

"  We  know  all  about  this,  already,"  said 
Don  Roque.  "  Let  us  go  on  fast.  We  can 
talk  afterwards." 

"  This  house  which  you  see  here  burned 
down  and  in  ruins,"  continued  the  cripple, 
going    around    a    corner,     "  is    the    one    that 

2  17 


Saragossa 

burned  on  the  fourth,  when  Don  Francisco 
IpaSj  sub-Heutenant  of  the  Second  Company 
of  fusileers  of  the  parish  of  San  Pablo,  stood 
here  with  a  cannon,  and  these  —  " 

"  We  know  the  rest,  my  good  man,"  said 
Don  Roque.  "  Forward,  march  !  and  the 
faster  the  better." 

"  But  much  better  was  what  Code  did,  the 
farmer  of  the  parish  of  La  Magdalena,  with 
the  cannon  of  the  Calle  de  la  Parra,"  persisted 
the  beggar,  stopping  once  more.  "  When  he 
was  going  to  fire  the  gun,  the  French  sur- 
rounded him,  everybody  ran  away ;  but  Code 
got  under  the  cannon,  and  the  French  passed 
by  without  seeing  him.  Afterwards,  helped  by 
an  old  woman  who  brought  him  some  rope,  he 
pulled  that  big  piece  of  artillery  as  far  as  the 
entrance  of  the  street.  Come,  I  will  show 
you  ! 

"  No,  no,  we  don*t  want  to  see  a  thing. 
Go  along  ahead." 

We  kept  at  him,  and  closed  our  ears  to 
his  tales  with  so  much  obstinacy,  that  at  last, 
although  very  slowly,  he  took  us  through 
the  Coso  and  the  Market  to  the  Calle  de  la 
Hilarza,  the  street  wherein  stood  the  house  of 
the  person  whom  we  were  seeking. 


i8 


CHAPTER   III 

BUT,  alas  !  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  was  not 
in  his  house,  and  we  found  it  necessary 
to  go  a  Httle  way  out  of  the  city  to  look  for 
him.  Two  of  my  companions,  tired  of  so 
much  going  and  coming,  left  us  with  the  idea 
of  trying  on  their  own  account  for  some  mili- 
tary or  civil  situation.  Don  Roque  and 
myself  therefore  started  with  less  embarrass- 
ment on  our  trip  to  the  country  house,  the 
"torre,"  of  our  friend.  (They  call  country 
houses  torres  at  Saragossa.)  This  was  situ- 
ated to  the  westward  of  the  town  ;  the  place 
bordered  on  the  Muella  road,  and  was  at 
a  short  distance  from  the  Bernardona  road. 
Such  a  long  tramp  was  not  at  all  the  right 
thing  for  our  tired  bodies,  but  necessity 
obliged  us  to  take  this  inopportune  exercise. 
We  were  very  well  treated  when  we  at  last 
met  the  longed-for  Saragossan  and  became 
the  objects  of  his  cordial  hospitality. 

Montoria  was  occupied,  when  we  arrived,  in 
cutting  down  olive-trees  on  his  place,  a  pro- 
ceeding demanded   by  the  military  exigencies 

19 


Saragossa 

of  the  plan  of  defence  established  by  the  offi- 
cers in  the  field,  because  of  the  possibility  of 
a  second  siege.  And  it  was  not  our  friend 
alone  who  destroyed  with  his  own  hands  this 
heritage  of  his  hacienda.  All  the  proprietors 
of  the  surrounding  places  occupied  themselves 
with  the  same  task,  and  they  directed  the 
work  of  devastation  with  as  much  coolness 
as  if  they  were  watering  or  replanting,  or 
busy  with   the   grape   harvest. 

Montoria  said  to  us,  "In  the  first  siege  I 
cut  down  my  trees  on  my  property  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Huerva;  but  this  second 
siege  that  is  being  prepared  for  us  is  going  to 
be  much  more  terrible,  to  judge  by  the  great 
number  of  troops  that  the  French  are 
sending." 

We  told  him  the  story  of  the  surrender 
of  Madrid,  and  as  this  seemed  to  depress 
him  very  much,  we  praised  the  deeds  done 
at  Saragossa  between  the  fifteenth  of  June 
and  the  fourteenth  of  August  with  all  sorts  of 
grandiloquent  phrases.  Shrugging  his  shoul- 
ders, Don  Jose  said,  "All  that  was  possible  to 
be  done  was  done." 

At  this  point  Don  Roque  began  to  make 
personal  eulogies  of  me,  both  military  and 
civil,  and    he  overdrew  the  picture  so   much 

20 


Saragossa 

that  he  made  me  blush,  particularly  as  some 
of  his  announcements  were  stupendous  lies. 
He  said,  first,  that  I  belonged  to  one  of  the 
highest  families  of  lower  Andalusia,  and 
that  I  was  present  as  one  of  the  marine 
guards  at  the  glorious  battle  of  Trafalgar. 
He  said  that  the  junta  had  made  me  a  great 
offer  of  a  concession  in  Peru,  and  that  dur- 
ing the  siege  of  Madrid  I  had  performed 
prodigies  of  valor  at  the  Puerta  de  los 
Pozos,  my  courage  being  so  great  that  the 
French  found  it  convenient  after  the  capitula- 
tion to  rid  themselves  of  such  a  fearful  foe, 
sending  me  with  other  Spanish  patriots  to 
France.  He  added  that  my  ingenuity  had 
made  possible  the  escape  of  us  four  compan- 
ions who  had  taken  refuge  in  Saragossa,  and 
ended  his  panegyric  by  assuring  Don  Jose 
that  for  my  personal  qualities  also  I  deserved 
distinguished  consideration. 

Meantime  Montoria  surveyed  me  from 
head  to  foot,  and  if  he  observed  the  bad 
cut  of  my  clothes  and  their  many  rents,  he 
must  also  have  seen  that  they  were  of  the 
kind  used  by  a  man  of  quality,  revealing  his 
fine,  courtly,  and  aristocratic  origin  by  the 
multiplicity  of  their  imperfections.  After  he 
had  looked  me  over,  he  said  to  me,  "  Porra ! 


21 


Saragossa 

I  shall  not  be  able  to  enlist  you  in  the  third 
rank  of  the  company  of  fusileers  of  Don  San- 
tiago Sas,  of  which  I  am  captain,  but  you  can 
enter  the  corps  where  my  son  is ;  and  if  you 
don't  wish  to,  you  must  leave  Saragossa,  be- 
cause here  we  have  no  use  for  lazy  men.  And 
as  for  you,  Don  Roque,  my  friend,  since  you 
are  not  able  to  carry  a  gun,  porra !  we  will 
make  you  one  of  the  attendants  in  the  army 
hospital." 

When  Don  Roque  had  heard  all  this,  he 
managed  to  express,  by  means  of  rhetorical  cir- 
cumlocution and  graceful  ellipses,  the  great 
necessity  of  a  piece  of  meat  for  each  one  of  us, 
and  a  couple  of  loaves  of  bread  apiece.  Then 
we  saw  the  great  Montoria  scowl,  looking  at 
us  so  severely  that  he  made  us  tremble,  fearing 
that  we  were  to  be  sent  away  for  daring  to  ask 
for  something  to  eat.  \Ve  murmured  timid 
excuses,  and  then  our  protector,  very  red  in  the 
face,  spoke  as  follows,  — 

"Is  it  possible  that  you  are  hungry?  Porra! 
Go  to  the  devil  with  a  hundred  thousand  porras  ! 
Why  have  n't  you  said  so  before  ?  Do  I  look 
like  a  man  capable  of  letting  my  friends  go  hun- 
gry ?  porra !  You  must  know  that  I  always  have 
a  dozen  hams  hanging  from  the  beams  of  my 
storeroom,  and  I   have  twenty  casks  of  Rioja, 


22 


Saragossa 

yes,  sir.  And  you  are  hungry,  and  you  did  not 
tell  me  so  to  my  face  without  any  round-about 
fuss  ?  That  is  an  offence  to  a  man  like  me. 
There,  boys,  go  in  and  order  them  to  cook 
four  pounds  of  beef  and  six  dozen  eggs,  and  to 
kill  six  pullets,  and  bring  from  the  wine-cellar 
seven  jugs  of  wine.  I  want  my  breakfast,  too. 
Let  the  neighbors  come,  the  workmen,  and  my 
sons  too,  if  they  are  anywhere  about.  And 
you,  gentlemen,  be  prepared  to  punish  it  all 
with  my  compliments,  porra !  You  will  eat 
what  there  is  without  thanking  me.  We  do 
not  use  compliments  here.  You,  Senor  Don 
Roque,  and  you,  Seiior  Don  Araceli,  are  in  your 
own  house  to-day,  porra  !  to-morrow  and  al- 
ways, porra  !  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  is  a  true 
friend  to  his  friends.  All  that  he  has,  all  that 
he  owns,  belongs  to  his  friends." 

The  brusque  hospitality  of  the  worthy  man 
astonished  usT  As  he  did  not  receive  our 
compliments  with  good  grace,  we  decided  to 
leave  aside  the  artificial  formalities  of  the  court, 
and,  assuredly,  the  most  primitive  fashions 
reigned   during  the  breakfast. 

"  Why  don't  you  eat  more  ?  "  Don  Jose 
asked  me.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  you  are  one 
of  these  compliment-makers  who  expect  to  live 
on    compliments.      I    don't  like  that    sort   of 

23 


Saragossa 

thing,  my  young  gentleman.  I  find  it  very 
trying,  and  I  am  going  to  beat  you  with  a  stick 
to  make  you  eat.  There,  despatch  this  glass 
of  wine  !  Did  you  find  any  better  at  court  ? 
Not  by  a  long  way.  Come  now,  drink,  porra  ! 
or  we  shall  come  to  blows."  All  this  made 
me  eat  and  drink  more  than  was  good  for  me  ; 
but  it  was  necessary  to  respond  to  the  generous 
cordiality  of  Montoria,  and  too  it  was  not 
worth  while  to  lose  his  good  will  for  one  in- 
digestion more  or  less. 

After  the  breakfast,  the  work  of  cutting 
down  trees  was  continued,  and  the  rich  farmer 
directed  it  as  if  it  were  a  festival  performance. 

"  We  will  see,"  he  said,  "  if  this  time  they 
will  dare  to  attack  the  Castle.  Have  you  not 
seen  the  works  that  we  have  built  ?  They  will 
find  it  a  very  complicated  task  to  take  them. 
I  have  just  given  two  hundred  bales  of  wool,  a 
mere  nothing,  and  I  would  give  my  last  crust." 

When  we  returned  to  the  town,  Montoria 
took  us  to  look  over  the  defensive  works  that 
were  built  in  the  western  part  of  the  city. 
There  was  in  the  Portillo  gate  a  large  semi-cir- 
cular battery  that  joined  the  walls  of  the  Con- 
vent de  los  Fecetas  with  those  of  the  Augustine 
friars*  convent.  From  this  building  to  the  Con- 
vent of  the  Trinitarios  extended  a  straight  wall, 

24 


Saragossa 

with  battlements  along  all  its  length  and  with 
a  good  pathway  in  the  centre.  This  was 
protected  by  a  deep  moat  that  reached  to  the 
famous  field  of  Las  Eras,  scene  of  the  he- 
roic deeds  of  the  fifteenth  of  June.  Further 
north,  towards  the  Puerta  Sancho,  which  pro- 
tected the  breastworks  of  the  Ebro,  the  for- 
tifications continued,  terminated  by  a  tower. 
All  these  works,  constructed  in  haste,  though 
intelligently,  were  not  distinguished  by  their 
solidity.  Any  one  of  the  enemy's  generals, 
ignorant  of  the  events  of  the  first  siege,  and  of 
the  immense  moral  force  of  the  Saragossans, 
would  have  laughed  at  those  piles  of  earth  as 
fortifications  offering  material  for  an  easy  siege. 
But  God  ordains  that  somebody  must  escape 
once  in  a  while  the  physical  laws  that  rule  war. 
Saragossa,  compared  with  Amberes,  Dantzig, 
Metz,  Sebastopol,  Cartagena,  Gibraltar,  and 
other  famous  strongholds,  was  like  a  fortress 
made  of  cardboard. 
And  yet  — ! 


25 


CHAPTER   IV 

EFORE  we  left  his  house,  Montoria  be- 
came vexed  at  Don  Roque  and  me  be- 
cause we  would  not  take  the  money  that  he 
offered  us  for  our  first  expenses  in  the  city ; 
then  were  repeated  the  blows  on  the  table, 
and  the  rains  of  "  porras  "  and  other  words  that 
I  will  not  repeat.  But  at  last  we  arrived  at  an 
arrangement  honorable  for  both  parties. 

And  now  I  begin  to  think  I  am  saying  too 
much  about  this  singular  man  before  I  describe 
his  personality.  Don  Jose  was  a  man  of 
about  sixty  years  of  age,  strong,  high-colored, 
of  over-flowing  health,  well  placed  in  the  world, 
contented  with  himself,  fulfilling  his  destiny 
with  a  quiet  conscience.  His  was  an  excess 
of  patriotic  virtues  and  of  exemplary  customs, 
if  there  can  be  an  excess  of  such  things.  He 
was  lacking  in  education,  that  is  to  say,  in  the 
finer  and  more  distinguished  training  which 
in  that  time  some  of  the  sons  of  such  families 
as  his  were  beginning  to  receive.  Don  Jose 
was  not  acquainted  with  the  superficialities  of 
etiquette,   and    by  character  and    custom   was 

26 


Saragossa 

opposed  to  the  amenities  and  the  white  lies 
which  are  a  part  of  the  foundations  of  courtesy. 
As  he  always  wore  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve, 
he  wished  everybody  to  do  the  same,  and  his 
savage  goodness  tolerated  none  of  the  frequent 
evasions  of  polite  conversation.  In  angry  mo- 
ments he  was  impetuous,  and  let  himself  be 
carried  to  violent  extremes,  of  which  he  always 
repented  later.  /He  never  dissimulated,  and 
had  the  great  Christian  virtues  in  a  crude  form 
and  without  polish,  like  a  massive  piece  of  the 
most  beautiful  marble  where  the  chisel  has 
traced  no  lines.  It  was  necessary  to  know 
him  to  understand  him,  making  allowances  for 
his  eccentricities,  although  to  be  sure  he  should 
scarcelv  be  called  eccentric,  when  he  was  so 
much  like  the  majority  of  the  men  of  his 
province. 

His  aim  was  never  to  hide  what  he  felt ;  and 
if  this  occasionally  caused  him  some  trouble  in 
the  course  of  life  in  regard  to  questions  of  little 
moment,  it  was  a  quality  which  always  proved 
an  inestimable  treasure  in  any  grave  matter, 
because,  with  his  soul  wholly  on  view,  it  was 
impossible  to  suspect  any  malice  or  any  double 
dealing  whatever.  He  readily  pardoned  offend- 
ers, obliged  those  who  sought  favors,  and  gave 
a  large  part  of  his  numerous   goods  to  those 

27 


Saragossa 

In  need.  He  dressed  neatly,  ate  abundantly, 
fasted  with  much  scrupulousness  during  Lent, 
and  loved  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  with  a  fanatical 
sort  of  family  affection. 

His  language  was  not,  as  we  have  shown,  a 
model  of  elegance,  and  he  himself  confessed,  as 
the  greatest  of  his  defects,  the  habit  of  saying 
porra  every  minute,  and  again,  porra  !  without 
the  slightest  necessity.  But  more  than  once  I 
heard  him  say,  knowing  his  fault,  he  had  not 
been  able  to  correct  it,  for  the  porras  came  out 
of  his  mouth  without  his  knowing  it. 

Don  Jose  had  a  wife  and  three  children. 
She  was  Dona  Leocadia  Sarriera,  by  birth  a 
Navarraise.  The  eldest  son  and  the  daughter 
were  married,  and  had  given  grandchildren  to 
the  old  man.  The  younger  son  was  called 
Augustine,  and  was  destined  for  the  church, 
like  his  uncle  of  the  same  name,  the  Arch- 
deacon of  La  Seo.  I  made  the  acquaintance 
of  all  these  on  the  same  day,  and  found  them 
the  best  people  in  the  world.  I  was  treated 
with  so  much  kindness  that  I  was  overwhelmed 
by  their  generosity.  If  they  had  known  me 
since  my  birth,  they  could  not  have  been  more 
cordial.  Their  kindness,  springing  spontane- 
ously from  their  generous  hearts,  touched  my 
very  soul ;  and  as  I  have  always  had  a  faculty 

28 


Saragossa 

for  letting  people  love  me,  I  responded  from 
the  first  with  a  very  sincere  affection. 

"  Senor  Don  Roque/'  I  said  that  night  to 
my  friend  as  we  were  going  to  bed  in  the  room 
which  was  given  us, "  I  have  never  seen  people 
like  these.  Is  everybody  in  Aragon  like 
this  ?  " 

•^  "  There  are  all  kinds,"  he  answered ;  "  but 
men  made  of  stuff  like  Don  Jose  and  his  family 
-are  plentiful  in  this  land  of  Aragon." 

Next  day  we  occupied  ourselves  with  my 
enlistment.  The  spirit  of  the  men  who  were 
enlisting  filled  me  with  such  enthusiasm  that 
nothing  seemed  to  me  so  noble  as  to  follow 
glory,  even  afar  off.  Everybody  knows  that  in 
those  days  Saragossa  and  the  Saragossans  had 
obtained  a  fabulous  renown,  that  their  heroism 
stimulated  the  imagination.  Everything  re- 
ferring to  the  famous  siege  of  the  immortal 
city  partook  on  the  lips  of  narrators  of  the 
proportions  and  colors  of  the  heroic  age.  With 
distance,  the  actions  of  the  Saragossans  acquired 
great  dimensions.  In  England  and  Germany, 
where  they  were  considered  the  Numantines  of 
modern  times,  those  half-naked  peasants,  with 
rope  sandals  on  their  feet  and  the  bright  Sara- 
gossan  kerchief  on  their  heads,  became  like 
figures  of  mythology. 

29 


Saragossa 

"  Surrender,  and  we  will  give  you  clothes," 
said  the  French  in  the  first  siege,  admiring  the 
constancy  of  a  few  poor  countrymen  dressed  in 
rags. 

"  We  do  not  know  how  to  surrender^'  they 
made  answer ;  "  and  our  bodies  shall  he  clothed 
with  glory '^ 

The  fame  of  this  and  other  phrases  has  gone 
round  the  world. 

But  let  us  go  back  to  my  enlistment.  There 
was  an  obstacle  in  the  way,  Palafox's  manifesto 
of  the  thirteenth  of  December,  in  which  he 
ordered  the  expulsion  of  all  strangers  within  a 
period  of  twenty-four  hours.  This  measure 
was  taken  on  account  of  the  numbers  of  people 
who  made  trouble,  and  stirred  up  discord  and 
disorder;  but  just  at  the  time  of  my  arrival 
another  order  was  given  out,  calling  for  all  the 
scattered  soldiers  of  the  Army  of  the  Centre 
which  had  been  dispersed  at  Tudela,  and  so  I 
found  a  chance  to  enlist.  Although  I  did  not 
belong  to  that  army,  I  had  taken  a  place  in  the 
defence  of  Madrid  and  the  battle  of  Bailen. 
VThese  were  reasons  which,  with  the  help  of  my 
protector  Montoria,,  served  me  in  entering  the 
Saragossan  forces.  '^^They  gave  me  a  place  in 
the  battalion  of  volunteers  of  the  Penas  of  San 
Pedroy^  which  had  been  badly  weakened  in  the 
^  30 


Saragossa 

first  siege,  and  I  received  a  uniform  and  a  gun. 
I  did  not  enter  the  lines,  as  my  protector  had 
said,  in  the  company  of  the  clergyman  of  San- 
tiago Sas,  because  this  valiant  company  was 
composed  exclusively  of  residents  of  the 
parish  of  San  Pablo.  They  did  not  want  any 
young  men  in  their  battalion  ;  for  this  reason 
Augustine  Montoria  himself,  Don  Jose's  son, 
could  not  serve  under  the  Sas  banner,  and 
enlisted  like  myself  in  the  battalion  of  Las 
Penas  de  San  Pedro.  Good  luck  bestowed 
upon  me  a  good  companion  and  an  excellent 
friend. 

From  the  day  of  my  arrival  I  had  heard 
talk  of  the  approach  of  the  French  army  ;  but 
it  was  not  an  incontrovertible  fact  until  the 
twentieth.  In  the  afternoon  a  division  arrived 
at  Zuera,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  to 
threaten  the  suburb ;  another,  commanded  by 
Suchet,  encamped  on  the  right  above  San 
Lamberto.  Marshal  Moncey,  who  was  the 
general  in  command,  placed  himself,  with  three 
divisions,  near  the  canal,  and  on  both  sides 
of  the  Huerva.  Forty  thousand  men  be- 
sieged us.. 

It  is  known  that  the  French,  impatient  to 
defeat  us,  began  operations  early  on  the  twenty- 
first,  attacking  simultaneously  and  with   great 

31 


Saragossa 

vigor  Monte  Torrero,  and  the  Arrabal,  the 
suburb  on  the  left  of  the  Ebro,  points  without  | 
whose  possession  it  was  impossible  to  dream  of 
conquering  the  valiant  city.  But  if  we  were 
obliged  to  abandon  Torrero  on  account  of  the 
danger  of  its  defence,  Saragossa  displayed  in  | 
the  suburb  such  audacious  courage  that  that 
day  is  known  as  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of 
all  her  brilliant  history. 

From  four  o'clock,  from  day-dawn,  the  bat- 
talion of  Las  Penas  de  San  Pedro  guarded 
the  front  of  the  fortifications,  from  Santa 
Engracia  to  the  Convent  of  Trinitarios,  a  line 
which  seemed  the  least  exposed  in  all  the  cir- 
cuit of  the  city.  Behind  Santa  Engracia  was 
established  the  battery  of  Los  Martires ;  from 
there  ran  the  battlements  of  the  wall  as  far  as 
the  Huerva  bridge,  defended  by  a  barricade ; 
it  deflected  afterwards  towards  the  west,  mak- 
ing an  obtuse  angle,  and  joining  another  re- 
doubt built  in  the  Torre  del  Pino  ;  it  continued 
in  a  straight  line  as  far  as  the  Convent  of 
Trinitarios,  and  enclosed  the  Puerta  del 
Carmen. 

Whoever  has  seen  Saragossa  can  well  under- 
stand my  imperfect  description,  for  the  ruins 
of  Santa  Engracia  still  remain,  and  in  the 
Puerta  del  Carmen  may  still  be  seen,  not  far 

32 


Saragossa 

from  the  Glorieta,  its    ruined    architrave    and 
worm-eaten  stones. 

We  were,  as  I  have  said,  occupying  the 
position  described,  and  part  of  the  soldiers  had 
a  bivouac  in  a  neighboring  orchard,  next  to 
the  Carmen  college. 

•  Augustine  Montoria  and  I  were  inseparable. 
His  serene  character,  the  affection  he  showed 
me  from  the  moment  we  met,  and  the  inex- 
plicable concord  in  our  thoughts,  made  his 
company  very  agreeable.  He  was  a  young 
man  of  beautiful  figure,  with  large  brilliant 
eyes  and  open  brow,  and  an  expression  marked 
by  a  melancholy  gravity.  His  heart,  like  that 
of  his  father,  was  filled  by  generosity  which 
overflowed  at  the  least  impulse ;  but  he  was 
not  likely  to  wound  the  feelings  of  a  friend, 
because  education  had  taken  from  him  a  great 
deal  of  the  national  brusqueness.  Augustine 
entered  manhood's  estate  with  the  security  of 
a  kind  heart,  firm  and  uncorrupted  judgment, 
with  a  vigorous  and  healthy  soul ;  the  vs^ide 
world  only  was  the  limit  of  his  boundless 
goodness.  These  qualities  were  enriched  by 
a  brilliant  imagination  of  sure  and  direct  action, 
not  like  that  of  our  modern  geniuses,  who  most 
of  the  time  do  not  know  what  they  are  about. 
Augustine's  imagination  was  lofty  and  serene, 
3  33 


Saragossa 

worthy  of  his  education  in  the  great  classics. 
Although  with  a  lively  inclination  to  poetry, 
—  for  Augustine  was  a  poet,  —  he  had  learned 
theology,  showing  ability  in  this  as  in  every- 
thing. The  fathers  at  the  Seminary,  who  were 
fond  of  the  youth,  looked  upon  him  as  a 
prodigy  in  the  sciences,  human  and  divine, 
and  they  congratulated  themselves  on  seeing 
him  with  one  foot  at  least  over  the  threshold 
of  the  Church. 

The  Montoria  family  had  many  a  pleasant 
anticipation  of  the  day  when  Augustine  would 
say  his  first  mass,  as  a  holy  event  that  was 
fast  approaching.  Yet,  —  I  am  obliged  to  say 
it,  —  Augustine  had  no  vocation  for  the 
Church.  Neither  his  family  nor  the  good 
fathers  of  the  Seminary  understood  this,  nor 
would  they  have  understood  it,  even  if  the 
Holy  Spirit  had  come  down  in  person  to  tell 
them.  This  precocious  theologian,  this  hu- 
manist who  had  Horace  at  the  ends  of  his 
fingers,  this  dialectician  who  in  the  weekly 
discussions  astonished  the  fathers  with  intel- 
lectual gymnastics  of  scholastic  science,  had  no 
more  vocation  for  the  Church  than  Mozart 
for  war,  Raphael  for  mathematics,  or  Napo- 
leon for  dancing ! 


34 


CHAPTER   V 

"^^  ABRIELj"  he  said  to  me  one  morning, 
VJT  "  dost  thou  not  feel  Hke  smashing 
something  ?  " 

"Augustine,  dost  thou  not  feel  like  smash- 
ing something  ? "  I  responded.  It  will  be 
seen  that  we  were  "  thee-ing  "  and  "  thou-ing  " 
each  other  after  three  days'  acquaintance. 

"  Not  very  much,"  he  said,  "  suppose  the 
first  ball  strikes  us  dead  !  " 

"  We  shall  die  for  our  country,  for  Saragossa  ; 
and  although  posterity  will  not  remember  us, 
it  is  always  an  honor  to  fall  on  the  field  of 
battle  for  a  cause  like  this." 

"  You  are  right,"  he  answered  sadly  ;  "  but 
it  is  a  pity  to  die.  We  are  young.  Who 
knows  for  what  we  are  destined  in   life  ?  " 

"  Life  is  a  trifle,  and  its  importance  is  not 
worth  thinking  of." 

"  That  is  for  the  aged  to  say,  but  not  us 
who  are  just  beginning  to  live.  Frankly,  I 
do  not  wish  to  die  in  this  terrible  circle  which 
the    French    have    drawn    about    us.     In    the 

35 


Saragossa 

other  siege,  however,  all  the  students  of  the 
Seminary  took  arms,  and  I  confess  that  I  was 
more  valiant  then  than  now.  A  peculiar  zeal 
filled  my  blood,  and  I  threw  myself  into 
places  of  greatest  danger  without  fear  of  death. 
To-day  does  not  find  me  the  same.  I  am 
timid  and  afraid,  and  when  a  gun  goes  off,  it 
makes  me  tremble." 

"  That  is  natural.  Fear  does  not  exist  when 
one  does  not  realize  the  danger.  As  far  as 
that  is  concerned,  they  say  the  most  valiant 
soldiers   are    the  raw  recruits." 

"  There  is  nothing  in  that.  Indeed,  Gabriel, 
I  confess  that  the  mere  question  of  dying  does 
not  strike  me  as  the  greatest  evil.  But  if  I 
die,  I  am  going  to  entrust  you  with  a  com- 
mission which  I  hope  you  will  fulfil  carefully 
like  a  good  friend.  Listen  well  to  what  I  tell 
you.  You  see  that  tower  that  leans  this  way, 
as  if  to  see  what  is  passing  here,  or  hear  what 
we  are  saying  ?  " 

"  The  Torre  Nueva?  I  see  it.  What  charge 
are  you  going  to  give  me  for  that  lady  ?  " 

Day  was  breaking,  and  between  the  irregu- 
lar-tiled roofs  of  the  city,  between  the  spires 
and  minarets,  the  balconies  and  the  cupolas 
of  the  churches,  the  Torre  Nueva,  old  and 
unfinished,  stood  out  distinctly. 

3^ 


Saragossa 

"  Listen  well !  "  said  Augustine.  "  If  I  am 
killed  with  the  first  shot  on  this  day  which  is 
now  dawning,  when  the  battle  is  ended,  and 
they  break  ranks,  you  must  go  there." 

"  To  the  Torre  Nueva  ?  Behold  me  !  I 
arrive.     I    enter  !  '* 

"  No,  man,  not  enter.  Listen,  I  will  tell 
you.  You  arrive  at  the  Plaza  de  San  Felipe 
where  the  tower  is.  Look  yonder  !  Do  you 
see  there  near  the  great  pile  there  is  another 
tower,  a  little  belfry  ?  It  seems  like  an  acolyte 
before  his  lord  the  canon,  which  is  the  great 
tower." 

"  Yes,  now  I  see  the  altar-boy.  And  if  1 
am  not  mistaken,  it  is  the  belfry  of  San  Felipe. 
And  the  damned  thing  is  ringing  this  minute  1 " 

"  For  mass,  it  is  ringing  for  mass,"  said 
Augustine,  with  great  emotion.  "  Do  you 
not  hear    the  cracked  bell  ?  " 

"  Very  plainly.  Let  us  know  what  I  have 
to  say  to  this  Mr.  Altar-boy  who  is  ringing 
the  cracked  bell." 

"  No,  no,  it  is  nothing  about  him.  You 
arrive  at  the  Plaza  of  San  Felipe.  If  you 
look  at  the  belfry,  you  will  see  it  is  on  a  corner, 
and  from  this  corner  runs  a  narrow  street. 
You  enter  there,  and  at  the  left  you  will  find 
at  a  little  distance  another  street,  narrow  and 

37 


Saragossa 

retired,  called  Anton  Trillo.  You  follow  this 
until  you  reach  the  back  of  the  church.  There 
you  will  see  a  house.  You  stop  there  —  " 
"  And  then  I  come  back  again  ?  " 
"  No  ;  close  to  the  house  there  is  a  garden, 
with  a  little  gateway  painted  the  color  of  choc- 
olate.    You  stop  there." 

"  There  I  stop,  and  there  I  am  ! " 
"  No,  old  man.     You  will  see  —  " 
"  You  *re  whiter    than  your    shirt,  my  Au- 
gustine.    What  do  all  these  towers  and  stop- 
pages signify  ?  " 

"  They  mean,"  continued  my  friend,  with 
increasing  embarrassment,  "  that  in  a  little 
while  you  will  be  there.  I  desire  you  to  go 
by  night.  All  right,  you  arrive  there.  You 
stop.  You  wait  a  little,  then  you  pass  to  the 
opposite  sidewalk.  You  stretch  your  neck, 
and  you  will  see  a  window  over  the  wall  of  a 
garden.  You  pick  up  a  pebble  and  throw 
it  against  the  panes  of  glass  lightly,  to  do  little 
damage." 

"  And  in  a  second  she  will  come  !  " 
"  No  ;  have  patience.     How  do  you  know 
whether  she  will  come  or  not  come  P  " 
"  Well,  let  us  suppose  that  she  comes." 
"  Before  I  tell  you  another  thing,  you  must 
understand  that  it  is  there  the  goodman  Can- 

38 


Saragossa 

diola  lives.      Do  you  know  who  Candlola  is  ? 
Well,  he  is  a  citizen  of  Saragossa,  a  man  who, 
as  they  say,  has  in  his  house  a  cellar  full  of 
money.      He   is  avaricious  and  a  usurer,  and 
when    he    lends  he  guts   his    customers.     He 
knows    more    about    debtors,  laws,   and    fore-  ■% 
closures  than  the  whole  court  and  council  of    / 
Castile.     Whoever    goes  to    law  with  him    is  / 
lost."  ^ 

"  From  all  this,  the  house  with  a  gate  painted 
chocolate  color  should  be  a  magnificent  palace." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort.  You  will  see  a 
wretched-looking  house  that  seems  about  to  ^ 
fall  down.  I  tell  you  that  that  goodman  Can- 
diola  is  a  miser.  He  does  not  waste  a  real  that 
he  can  help.  And  if  you  should  see  him  about 
here  you  would  give  him  alms.  I  will  tell 
you  another  thing ;  he  is  never  seen  in  Sara- 
gossa, and  they  call  him  goodman  Candiola  in 
mockery  and  contenmt.  /--His  name  is  Don 
Jeronimo  de  Candiola ;[  he  is  a  native  of  Mal- 
lorca,  if  I  am  not  mistafcen.'* 

"  And  this  Candiola  has  a  daughter  ?  " 

"  Wait,  man,  how  impatient  you  are  !  How 
do  you  know  whether  or  not  he  has  a  daugh- 
ter ? "  he  answered,  hiding  his  agitation  by 
these  evasions.  "  Well,  as  I  was  just  going 
to  tell    you,   Candiola  is  detested  in   the  city 

39 


Saragossa 

for  his  great  avarice  and  wicked  heart.  Many 
poor  men  has  he  put  in  prison  after  ruin- 
ing them.  Worse  still,  during  the  other  siege 
he  did  not  give  a  farthing  for  the  war,  nor  take 
up  arms,  nor  receive  the  wounded  into  his  house, 
nor  could  they  wring  a  peseta  from  him ;  and, 
as  he  said  one  day  it  was  all  one  to  him  whether 
he  gave  to  John  or  to  Peter,  he  was  on  the 
point  of  being  arrested." 

"  Well,  he  is  a  pretty  piece,  this  man  of  the 
house  of  the  garden  of  the  chocolate-colored 
gate  !  And  what  if  when  the  pebble  strikes 
the  window,  goodman  Candiola  comes  out  with 
a  cudgel  and  gives  me  a  good  beating  for 
flirting  with  his  daughter  ?  " 

"  Don*t  be  an  idiot !  Hush !  You  must 
know  that  as  soon  as  it  gets  dark,  Candiola 
shuts  himself  in  an  underground  room,  and 
there  he  stays  counting  his  money  until  after 
midnight.  Bah  !  He  is  well  occupied  now. 
The  neighbors  -say  they  hear  a  muffled  sound 
as  if  bags  of  coins  were  being  tumbled  out." 

"  Very  well.  I  arrive  there.  I  throw  the 
stone.     She  comes,  and  I  tell  her  — " 

f'You  tell  her  that  I  am  dead.  No,  don't 
be  cruel ;  give  her  this  amulet.  No,  tell  her 
—  no,  it  will  be  better  to  tell  her  nothing." 

"  Then  I  will  give  her  the  amulet  ?  " 

40 


Saragossa 

"  By  no  means.  Do  not  take  the  amulet  to 
her." 

"  Now,  now  I  understand.  As  soon  as  she 
comes  I  am  to  say  good-night  and  march 
myself  away  singing,  '  The  Virgin  del  Pilar 
says  — 

"  No,  it  is   enough  that  she   learns   of  my 
death.     You  must  do  as  I  tell  you." 
"  But  if  you  don't  tell  me  anything." 
"  How    hasty    you    are !      Wait.      Perhaps 
they  '11   not   kill    me   to-day." 

"True.     And  what  a  bother  about  nothing!" 
"  There  is  one  thing  which  I  have  left  out,  / 

Gabriel,  and  I  shall  tell  it  to  you  frankly.  I  f^U&OL^i  * 
have  had  many,  very  many  great  desires  to 
confide  to  you  this  secret  which  weighs  upon 
my  breast.  To  whom  could  I  tell  it  but  to 
you,  my  friend?  If  I  did  not  tell  you,  my 
heart  would  break  like  a  pomegranate.  I 
have  been  greatly  afraid  of  telling  it  at  night 
in  my  dreams.  Because  of  this  fear  I  cannot  ' 
sleep.  If  my  father,  my  mother,  my  brother, 
suspected  it,  they  would  kill  me."  ^ 

"And  the  fathers  at  the  Seminary  ?  " 
"  Don't   name  the  fathers.     You   shall   see. 
I  will  tell  you  what  has  befallen  me.     Do  you 
know  Father  Rincon  ?     Well,  Father  Rincon 
loves    me  very   much,  and   every  evening   he 

41 


Saragossa 

used  to  make  me  come  out  for  a  walk  by 
the  river  or  towards  Torrero  or  the  Juslibol 
road.  We  would  talk  of  theology  and  litera- 
ture. Rincon  is  so  enthusiastic  about  the 
great  poet  Horace  that  he  used  to  say,  *  It 
is  a  pity  that  that  man  was  n't  a  Christian 
so  that  he  could  be  canonized.'  He  always 
carries  with  him  a  little  Elzevir,  which  he 
loves  more  than  the  apple  of  his  eye.  When 
we  were  tired  walking,  he  would  sit  down  and 
read,  and  between  the  two  of  us  we  would 
make  whatever  comments  occurred  to  us. 
Well,  now  I  will  tell  you  that  Father  Rincon 
was  a  kinsman  of  Dona  Maria  Rincon,  the 
deceased  wife  of  Candiola,  who  has  a  little 
property  in  the  Monzalbarba  road,  with  a 
wretched  little  country  house,  more  like  a 
hut  than  a  house,  but  embowered  in  leafy 
trees,  and  with  delightful  views  of  the  Ebro, 
One  afternoon,  after  we  had  been  reading  the 
^is  mult  a  gracilis  te  puer  in  rosa,  my  teacher 
desired  to  visit  his  relative.  We  went  there  ; 
we  entered  the  garden,  and  Candiola  was  not 
there ;  but  his  daughter  came  to  meet  us, 
and  Rincon  said  to  her,  '  Mariquilla,  get 
some  peaches  for  this  young  man,  and  get 
me  a  glass  of  you  know  what.*  " 
"And  is   Mariquilla  nice?" 

42 


Saragossa 

"  Don't  ask  that.  What  if  she  is  nice  ? 
You  shall  see.  Father  Rincon  stroked  his 
beard,  and  turning  towards  me  said,  ^Augus- 
tine, confess  that  in  your  lifetime  you  have 
never  seen  a  more  perfect  face  than  this  one. 
Look  at  those  eyes  of  fire,  that  angel's  mouth, 
and  that  bit  of  heaven  for  a  brow.'  I  was 
trembling,  and  Mariquilla  laughed,  her  face 
all  rosy  red.  Then  Rincon  continued,  say- 
ing, '  To  you,  who  are  a  future  father  of  the 
church,  an  example,  a  young  pattern,  without 
other  passion  than  that  for  books,  this  divin- 
ity may  show  herself.  Jove  !  admire  here  the 
admirable  work  of  the  Supreme  Creator.  Ob- 
serve the  expression  of  that  face,  the  sweetness 
of  those  glances,  the  grace  of  that  smile,  the 
freshness,  the  delicacy  of  that  complexion,  the 
fineness  of  that  skin,  and  confess  that  if  heaven 
is  beautiful,  flowers,  mountains,  light,  all  the 
creations  of  God  are  nothing  beside  woman, 
the  most  perfect  and  finished  work  of  the 
immortal  hand.'  Thus  spoke  my  teacher, 
and  I,  mute  and  astonished,  did  not  cease  to 
contemplate  that  master  work  which  was  cer- 
tainly better  than  the  ^neid.  I  cannot  tell 
you  what  I  felt.  Imagine  the  Ebro,  that  great 
river,  which  descends  from  its  springs  to  give 
itself   to    the    sea,    all    at    once    changing    its 

43 


Saragossa 

channel  and  trying  to  run  upward,  returning 
to  the  Asturias.  The  same  thing  took  place 
in  my  spirit.  I  myself  was  astonished  that 
all  my  ideas  had  been  changed  from  their 
wonted  course  and  turned  backward,  cutting 
I  know  not  what  new  channels.  I  assure 
you  I  was  astonished,  and  I  am  yet.  Look- 
ing at  her  without  satisfying  the  longing  of 
my  soul  or  of  my  eyes,  I  said  to  myself,  '  I 
love  her  in  a  wonderful  way  !  How  is  it  that 
until  now  I  have  never  fallen  in  love  ? '  I  had 
never  seen  Mariquilla  until  that  moment.'* 

"And  the  peaches  ?  " 

"  Mariquilla  was  as  much  disturbed  before 
me  as  I  before  her.  Father  Rincon  went  to 
talk  with  the  gardener  about  the  encroach- 
ments that  the  French  had  made  upon  the 
property  (that  was  soon  after  the  first  of 
September,  a  month  after  the  raising  of  the 
first  siege),  and  Mariquilla  and  I  remained 
alone.  Alone  !  My  first  impulse  was  to  cut 
and  run ;  and  she,  as  she  has  told  me,  also 
felt  the  same.  Neither  she  nor  I  ran.  We 
stayed  there.  All  at  once  I  felt  an  extraordi- 
nary movement  of  my  intellect.  Breaking  the 
silence,  I  began  to  talk  with  her.  We  talked 
about  all  sorts  of  indifferent  things  at  first,  but 
to  me  came  thoughts  beyond  my  usual  under- 

44 


Saragossa 

standing,  surpassing  the  ordinary,  and  all,  all, 
all,  I  uttered.  Mariquilla  answered  me  little, 
but  her  eyes  were  only  more  eloquent  than 
when  I  was  talking  to  her.  At  last  Father 
Rincon  called,  and  we  marched  away.  I  took 
leave  of  her,  and  in  a  low  voice  said  that  we 
would  soon  meet  again.  We  returned  to  Sara- 
gossa. Yes,  the  street,  the  trees,  the  Ebro, 
the  cupola  of  the  Pilar,  the  belfries  of 
Saragossa,  the  passers-by,  the  houses,  the  walls 
of  the  garden,  the  pavements,  the  sound  of 
the  wind,  the  dogs  of  the  street,  all  seemed 
different  to  me,  all,  heaven  and  earth  had 
been  changed.  My  good  teacher  began  to 
read  again  in  Horace,  and  I  said  that  Horace 
wasn't  worth  anything.  He  wished  me  to 
dine  with  him,  and  threatened  me  with  the 
loss  of  his  friendship.  I  praised  Virgil  with 
enthusiasm,  and  repeated  the  celebrated  lines  — 

**  *  Est  mollis  jiamma  medullas 
inter eay  et  taciturn  vivit  sub  pectore  "uulnus^  " 

"  This  was  about  the  first  of  September," 
said  I,  "  and  since  then .?  " 

"  From  that  day  a  new  life  began  for  me. 
It  commenced  with  a  burning  disquiet  that 
robbed  me  of  sleep,  making  distasteful  to  me 
all  that  was  not  Mariquilla.      My  own  father's 

45 


/ 


Saragossa 

house  was  hateful  to  me ;  and  wandering  about 
the  environs  of  Saragossa  without  any  compan- 
ion, I  sought  peace  for  my  spirit  in  solitude. 
I  hated  the  college,  all  books  and  theology,  and 
when  October  came,  and  they  wished  me  to 
bind  myself  to  live  shut  up  in  the  holy  house, 
I  feigned  illness  in  order  to  remain  in  my  own. 
Thanks  to  the  war  that  has  made  us  all  sol- 
diers, I  have  been  able  to  live  free,  to  go  at 
all  hours,  day  and  night,  and  see  and  talk  with 
her  frequently.  I  go  to  her  house,  make  the 
signal  agreed  upon  ;  she  descends,  opens  her 
grated  window ;  we  talk  long  hours.  People 
pass  by,  but  I  am  muffled  in  my  cloak  even 
up  to  the  eyes.  With  this  and  the  dark- 
ness of  night,  no  one  recognizes  me.  As  far 
as  that  is  concerned,  the  boys  in  the  street 
ask  one  another,  ^  Who  is  this  admirer  of 
the  Candiola  ? '  The  other  night,  fearing  dis- 
covery, we  stopped  our  talks  at  the  grating. 
Mariquilla  came  down,  opened  the  garden 
gate,  and  I  entered.  No  one  could  discover 
us,  because  Don  Jeronimo,  believing  her  to  be 
in  bed,  retired  to  his  room  to  count  his  money, 
and  the  old  servant,  the  only  one  in  the  house, 
took  us  under  her  wing.  Alone  in  the  garden 
we  sat  down  upon  some  stone  steps  and  watched 
the  brightness  of  the  moonlight  through  the 

46 


Saragossa 

boughs  of  a  great  black  poplar.  In  that  ma- 
jestic silence  our  souls  contemplated  the  divine, 
and  we  experienced  a  deep  sentiment,  beyond 
words  to  express.  Our  felicity  is  so  great  that 
at  times  it  is  a  living  torment.  If  there  are 
moments  in  which  one  might  desire  to  be  a 
hundred  beings,  there  are  also  moments  in 
which  one  might  desire  not  to  exist.  We  pass 
long  hours  there.  The  night  before  last  we 
were  there  until  daybreak.  My  teacher  be- 
lieved me  to  be  with  the  guards,  so  I  was  not 
obliged  to  hasten.  When  morning  first  began 
to  dawn,  we  separated.  Over  the  top  of  the 
w^all  of  the  garden  appeared  the  roofs  of  the 
neighboring  houses  and  the  top  of  the  Torre  . 
Nueva.  Pointing  it  out  to  me,  Mariquilla  : 
said,  '  When  that  tower  stands  straight,  then  I 
only  shall  I  cease  to  love  you.'  " 

Augustine  said  no  more.  A  cannon-shot 
sounded  from  the  side  of  Mount  Torrero,  and 
we  both  turned  in  that  direction. 


47 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  French  had  assaulted  with  great 
vigor  the  fortified  positions  of  the 
Torrero.  Ten  thousand  men  defended  them, 
commanded  by  Don  Philip  Saint  March  and 
by  O'Neill,  both  generals  of  great  merit.  The 
volunteers  of  Bourbon,  Castile,  Campo  Segor- 
bino,  of  Alicante,  and  of  Soria,  the  sharp- 
shooters of  Fernando  VH,  the  Murcia  regi- 
ment, and  other  bodies  that  I  do  not  remember, 
answered  the  fire.  From  the  redoubt  of  Los 
Martires  we  saw  the  beginning  of  the  action, 
and  the  French  columns  which  extended  the 
length  of  the  canal  and  flanked  the  Torrero. 
The  fire  of  the  fusileers  continued  for  some 
time,  but  the  struggle  could  not  be  prolonged 
very  long,  for  that  point  could  not  be  held 
without  the  occupation  and  fortification  of 
others  close  by,  like  Buena  Vista,  Casa  Blanca, 
and  the  reservoir  of  the  canal.  But  none  the 
less  our  troops  did  not  retire  except  slowly  and 
in  the  best  order,  retreating  by  the  Puente  de 
America,  and  carrying  with  them  all  the  pieces 

48 


Saragossa 

of  artillery  except  one,  which  had  been  dis- 
mantled by  the  enemy's  fire.  Amidst  it  all 
we  heard  a  great  noise  which  resounded  at  a 
great  distance,  and  as  the  fire  had  almost  ceased, 
we  supposed  that  there  was  another  battle  out- 
side the  town. 

"  There  is  the  Brigadier  Don  Jose  Manso," 
said  Augustine  to  me,  "with  the  Swiss  regi- 
ment of  Aragon,  which  Don  Mariano  Walker 
commands,  the  volunteers  of  Huesca,  of  whom 
Don  Pedro  Villacampa  is  leader,  the  volunteers 
of  Catalonia,  and  other  valiant  corps.  And 
here  are  we,  hand  in  hand  !  Along  this  side  it 
appears  to  be  about  finished.  The  French 
will  content  themselves  to-day  with  the  con- 
quest of  Torrero." 

"  Either  I  am  greatly  deceived,"  I  replied, 
"  or    they     are    now     going     to    attack    San 

J'  y* 
ose. 

We  all  looked  at  the  spot  indicated,  an  edi- 
fice of  huge  dimensions  which  arose  at  our 
left,  separated  from  the  Puerta  Quemada  by 
the  valley   of  the    Huerva. 

"  There  is  Renovales,"  said  Augustine,  — 
"  the  brave  Don  Mariano  Renovales,  who 
distinguished  himself  so  highly  in  the  other 
siege,  who  now  commands  the  troops  of 
Orihuela  and  of  Valencia." 
4  49 


Saragossa 

In  our  position  we  were  all  prepared  for  an 
energetic  defence.  In  the  redoubt  del  Pilar, 
in  the  battery  of  Los  Martires,  in  the  tower  of 
Del  Pino,  the  same  as  in  the  Trinitarios,  the 
artillery  stood  guard  with  burning  matches, 
and  the  infantry  waited  behind  the  parapets  in 
positions  that  seemed  to  us  quite  secure,  ready 
to  fire  if  any  columns  should  attempt  to  assault 
us.  It  was  cold,  and  most  of  us  were  shiver- 
ing. One  might  almost  have  believed  that  it 
was  from  fear  ;  but  no,  it  was  cold,  and  any- 
body who  had  said  the  contrary  would  have 
lied. 

The  movement  which  I  had  foreseen  was  not 
slow  in  taking  place,  and  the  convent  of  San 
Jose  was  attacked  by  a  strong  column  of 
French  infantry.  It  was  an  attempt  at  an 
attack,  or,  rather,  a  surprise.  To  all  appear- 
ances, the  enemy  had  a  poor  memory,  and 
in  three  months  they  had  forgotten  that  sur- 
prises were  impossible  in  Saragossa.  None 
the  less  they  arrived  within  gunshot,  and 
doubtless  the  graceless  whelps  believed  that 
merely  at  sight  of  them  our  warriors  would 
fall  dead  with  fear.  The  poor  men  had  just 
arrived  from  Silesia,  and  did  not  know  what 
manner  of  warfare  there  was  in  Spain.  And, 
furthermore,  as  they  had  gained  the  Torrero 

50  ^' 


Saragossa 

with  so  little  difficulty,  they  believed  them- 
selves in  train  to  swallow  the  world.  They 
were  advancing  thus,  as  I  have  said,  and  San 
Jose  was  not  making  any  demonstration. 
When  they  were  nearly  within  gunshot  of  the 
loopholes  and  embrasures  of  that  edifice,  all  at 
once  these  began  vomiting  such  a  terrible  fire 
that  my  brave  Frenchmen  took  to  their  heels 
with  the  utmost  precipitation.  Having  had 
enough  doubtless,  they  remained  stretched  out 
at  full  length  ;  and  upon  seeing  the  outcome  of 
their  valor,  those  of  us  who  were  watching  the 
onset  from  the  battery  of  Los  Martires  broke 
out  into  exclamations,  applause,  cries,  and 
huzzas.  In  this  ferocious  manner  the  soldier 
celebrates  in  battle  the  death  of  his  fellow- 
creatures.  He  who  instinctively  feels  com- 
passion at  the  slaying  of  a  rabbit  on  a  hunt 
jumps  for  joy  on  seeing  hundreds  of  robust 
men  fall,  — young,  happy  men  who  have  never 
done  harm  to  anybody. 

Such  was  the  attack  upon  San  Jose,  a  futile 
attempt  quickly  punished.  By  that  time,  the 
French  should  have  understood  that  ifTorrero 
was  abandoned,  it  was  by  calculation  and  not 
on  account  of  weakness.  Alone,  embarrassed, 
deserted,  without  external  defences,  without 
forces    or    forts,   Saragossa  renewed   again  her 

51 


Saragossa 

earthworks,  her  defences  of  bricks,  her  bastions 
of  mud  heaped  up  the  evening  before  to  be 
again  defended  against  the  first  soldiers,  the 
first  artillery,  and  the  first  engineers  of  the 
world.  Pomp  and  show  of  a  nation,  formid- 
able machines,  enormous  quantities  of  power, 
scientific  preparation  of  materials,  force,  and 
intelligence  in  their  greatest  splendor,  the  in- 
vaders bring  to  attack  the  fortified  place  which 
appears  to  be  guarded  by  boys.     It  is  indeed 

'  almost  like  this  :  all  succumb,  all  is  reduced  to 
powder  in  front  of  those  walls  which  might 
be  kicked  over.  But  behind  this  movable 
defensive  material  is  the  well-tempered  steel  of 
Aragon  souls,  which  cannot  be  broken  or  bent, 
nor  cast  into  moulds,  nor  crushed,  nor  robbed 
of  breath,  and  which  surrounds  the  whole  re- 
gion like  a  barrier,  indestructible  by  human 
I  means. 

/  The  whole  district  about  the  Torre  Nueva 
was  resounding  with  clamors  and  alarms. 
When  to  this  district  comes  such  mournful 
sounds,  the  city  is  in  danger  and  needs  all  her 
sons.  What  is  it  ?  What  is  passing  ?  What 
will  happen  ? 

"  Matters  must  be  going  badly  back  of  the 
town,"  said  Augustine. 

Meanwhile    they    attacked    us    yonder    to 

52 


Saragossa 

occupy  the  attention  of  the  crowd  on  this  side 
of  the  river.  The  same  thing  was  done  in  the 
first  siege. 

"  Al  arrabal,  al  arrabal !  '*  was  our  cry.  "  To 
the  suburb  !  " 

And  while  we  were  saying  this,  the  French 
sent  us  some  balls  to  show  us  that  we  must 
stay  where  we  were.  Fortunately  Saragossa 
had  enough  people  within  her  walls,  and  could 
readily  assist  and  support  all  parts. 

My  battalion  abandoned  the  wall  near  Santa 
Engracia,  and  began  to  march  towards  the 
Coso.  We  did  not  know  where  we  were  be- 
ing conducted,  but  it  is  probable  that  they 
were  taking  us  to  the  suburb.  The  streets 
were  full  of  people.  Old  men  and  women 
came  out,  impelled  by  curiosity,  wishing  to 
see  at  close  quarters  and  near  at  hand  the 
points  of  danger,  since  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  be  placed  in  the  same  peril.  The 
streets  of  San  Gil,  San  Pedro,  and  La  Cuchi- 
lleria,  which  lead  to  the  bridge,  were  almost 
impassable.  A  great  multitude  of  women  were 
passing  through  them,  all  walking  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  Pilar  and  La  Seo. 

The  booming  of  the  cannon  excited  rather 
than  saddened  the  fervent  people,  and  all  were 
jostling  one  another  to  get  nearest  the  front. 

53 


Saragossa 

In  the  Plaza  de  la  Seo,  I  saw  the  cavalry 
which,  with  all  these  people,  obstructed  the 
bridge  and  obliged  my  battalion  to  look  for 
an  easier  way  to  the  other  side.  While  we 
were  passing  before  the  porch  of  this  sanct- 
uary, we  heard  the  sound  of  the  prayers 
wherewith  all  the  women  of  the  city  were 
imploring  their  holy  patroness.  The  few  men 
who  wished  to  come  into  the  temple  were  ex- 
pelled by  them. 

We  went  to  the  bank  of  the  river  near  San 
Juan  de  los  Panetas,  and  took  up  our  place  on 
a  mound,  awaiting  orders.  In  front  and  on 
the  other  side  of  the  river,  the  field  of  battle 
was  divided.  We  saw  at  the  end  nearest  us 
the  grove  of  Macanaz,  over  there  and  close 
to  the  bridge  the  little  monastery  of  Altabas, 
yonder  that  of  San  Lazarus,  and  further  on  the 
Monastery  of  Jesus.  Behind  this  scene,  re- 
flected in  the  waters  of  the  great  river,  could 
be  seen  a  horrible  fire.  There  was  an  inter- 
minable turmoil,  a  hoarse  clamor  of  the  voices 
of  cannon  and  of  human  yells.  Dense  clouds 
of  smoke,  renewed  unceasingly,  mounted  con- 
fusedly to  the  heavens.  All  the  breastworks 
of  this  position,  which  were  constructed  with 
bricks  from  neighboring  brickyards,  formed 
with   the   earth  of  the   kilns   a   reddish   mass. 

54 


Saragossa 

One  might  have  believed  that  the  ground  had 
been  mixed  together  with  blood. 

The  French  held  their  front  towards  the 
Barcelona  road  and  the  Juslibol,  where  more 
kilns  and  gardens  lie  at  the  left  of  the  second 
of  those  two  ways.  Thence  the  Twelfth  had 
furiously  attacked  our  intrenchments,  making 
their  way  by  the  Barcelona  road,  and  challeng- 
ing with  impetuous  intrepidity  the  cross-fires 
of  San  Lazarus  and  that  of  the  place  called  El 
Marcelo.  Their  courage  lay  in  striking  auda- 
cious blows  upon  the  batteries,  and  their  tenacity 
produced  a  veritable  hecatomb.  They  fell  in 
great  numbers  ;  the  ranks  were  broken,  and, 
being  instantly  filled  by  others,  they  repeated 
the  attack.  At  times  they  almost  reached  the 
parapets,  and  a  thousand  individual  contests 
increased  the  horror  of  the  scene.  They  went 
in  advance  of  their  leaders,  brandishing  their 
cutlasses,  like  desperate  men  who  had  made 
it  a  question  of  honor  to  die  before  a  heap  of 
bricks,  and  in  that  frightful  destruction  which 
wrenched  the  life  from  hundreds  of  men  every 
minute,  they  disappeared,  flung  down  upon 
mother  earth,  soldiers  and  sergeants,  ensigns, 
captains,  and  colonels.  It  was  a  veritable 
struggle  between  two  peoples  ;  and  while  the 
fires    of  the    first   siege  were    burning  in   our 

55 


Saragossa 

hearts,  the  French  came  on  thirsting  for  ven- 
geance with  all  the  passion  of  offended  manhood, 
worse  even  than  the  passion  of  the  warrior.j 

It  was  this  untimely  bloodthirstiness"  that 
lost  them  the  day.  They  should  have  begun 
by  demolishing  our  works  with  their  artillery, 
observing  the  serenity  which  a  siege  demands, 
and  not  have  engaged  in  those  hand  to  hand 
combats  before  positions  defended  by  a  people 
like  the  one  that  they  had  met  on  the  fifteenth 
of  July,  and  the  fourth  of  August.  They 
ought  to  have  repressed  their  feeling  of  con- 
tempt or  scorn  of  the  forces  of  the  enemy, — a 
feeling  that  has  always  been  the  bad  star  of 
the  French.  It  was  the  same  in  the  war  with 
Spain,  as  in  the  recent  conflict  with  Prussia. 
They  ought  to  have  put  into  execution  a 
calmly  considered  plan  which  would  have  pro- 
duced in  the  besieged  less  of  disgust  than 
exaltation. 

It  is  certain  that  if  they  carried  with  them 
the  thought  of  their  immortal  general  who 
always  conquered  as  much  by  his  admirable 
logic  as  by  his  cannons,  they  would  have  em- 
ployed in  the  siege  of  Saragossa  a  little  of  the 
knowledge  of  the  human  heart,  without  which 
the  pursuit  of  war,  brutal  war  —  it  seems  a 
lie !  —  is  no  more  than  cruel  carnage. 

56 


Saragossa 

Napoleon,  with  his  extraordinary  penetration, 
would  have  comprehended  the  Saragossan 
character,  and  would  have  abstained  from  at- 
tacking the  unprotected  columns,  whose  boast 
was  of  individual  personal  valor.  This  is  a 
quality  at  all  times  difficult  and  dangerous  to 
encounter,  but  above  all  in  the  presence  of 
nations  who  fight  for  an  ideal  and  not  for  an 
idol. 

I  will  not  go  into  further  details  of  the 
dreadful  battle  of  the  twenty-first  of  December, 
the  most  glorious  of  the  second  siege  of 
Aragonl  As  I  did  not  see  it  at  close  quarters, 
and  can  only  give  the  story  of  what  was  told 
me,  I  am  moved  not  to  be  prolix,  because 
there  are  so  many  and  such  interesting  adven- 
tures which  I  must  narrate.  This  makes  a 
certain  restraint  necessary  in  the  description  of 
these  sanguinary  encounters.  It  is  enough 
now  to  know  that  the  French  believed  when 
ni^ht  came  that  it  was  time  to  desist  from  their 
purpose,  and  they  retired,  leaving  the  plain 
covered  with  bodies  of  the  dead.  It  was  a 
good  moment  to  follow  them  with  cavalry ; 
but  after  a  short  discussion  the  generals,  I  am 
told,  decided  not  to  put  themselves  in  peril  in 
a  sally  which  could  only  be  dangerous. 


57 


CHAPTER   VII 

N^IGHT  came,  and  when  a  part  of  our 
troops  fell  back  upon  the  city,  all  of 
the  people  hastened  to  the  suburb  to  look  at 
the  field  of  battle  from  near  at  hand,  and  to 
gladden  their  imaginations  by  going  over,  one 
by  one,  the  scenes  of  heroism.  The  animation, 
the  movement,  the  clatter  of  noise  in  that  part 
of  the  city  were  immense.  At  one  side  were 
groups  of  soldiers  singing  with  feverish  joy,  on 
the  other  bands  of  merciful  people  carrying  the 
wounded  into  their  houses.  Everywhere  was 
hearty  satisfaction,  which  showed  itself  in  lively 
dialogues,  question,  joyous  exclamations,  — 
tears  and  laughter  mingling  with  the  rejoicings 
and  enthusiasm. 

It  was,  possibly,  about  nine  o'clock  before 
my  battalion  broke  ranks ;  because,  lacking 
quarters,  we  did  not  permit  ourselves  to  leave 
the  position,  although  there  was  no  danger. 

Augustine  and  I  ran  to  Del  Pilar,  where  a 
great  crowd  was  rushing.  We  entered  with 
difficulty.     I  was  surprised  to  see  how  some 

58 


Saragossa 

persons  jostled  and  pushed  others  in  order  to 
approach  the  chapel  of  the  Virgin  del  Pilar. 
The  prayers,  the  entreaties,  and  the  demonstra- 
tions of  rejoicing,  taken  all  together,  did  not 
seem  like  the  prayers  of  any  class  of  the  faith- 
ful. The  prayers  were  like  talks  mingled  with 
tears,  groans,  the  most  tender  words,  and  other 
phrases  of  intimate  and  ingenuous  affection, 
such  as  the  Spanish  people  are  wont  to  use 
with  their  saints  that  are  most  beloved.  They 
fell  upon  their  knees ;  they  kissed  the  pavement ; 
they  grasped  the  iron  gratings  of  the  chapel ; 
they  addressed  the  holy  image,  calling  it  by 
names  the  most  familiar  and  the  most  pathetic  of 
the  language.  Those  who  could  not  —  because 
of  the  crowd  of  people  —  come  near  her  were 
talking  to  her  from  afar  off,  waving  their  arms 
wildly  about.  There  were  no  sacristans  to 
stop  these  wild  ways  and  seemingly  irreverent 
noises,  because  they  were  themselves  children 
of  this  overflowing  delirious  devotion.  The 
solemn  silence  of  sacred  places  was  not  ob- 
served. All  there  were  as  if  in  their  own  | 
house,  as  if  the  house  of  their  cherished  Virgin,  ' 
their  mother,  their  beloved,  the  queen  of  Sara- 
gossans,  were  also  the  house  of  her  children,  , 
her  servants  and  subjects. 

Astonished  at  such  fervor  which  the  famil- 

59 


Saragossa 

iarity  made  more  interesting,  I  fought  my  way 
to  the  grating,  and  saw  the  celebrated  image. 
Who  has  not  seen  her,  who  does  not  know 
her,  at  least  by  the  innumerable  sculptures  and 
portraits  which  have  reproduced  her  endlessly 
from  one  end  of  the  peninsula  to  the  other  ? 

She  was  at  the  left  of  the  little  altar  which  is 
in  the  depth  of  the  chapel  in  a  niche  adorned 
with  oriental  luxury,  a  little  statue,  then  as 
now.  A  great  profusion  of  wax  candles  illu- 
minated her,  and  precious  stones  covered  her 
clothing  and  crown,  darting  dazzling  reflections. 
Gold  and  diamonds  gleamed  in  the  circlet 
about  her  face,  in  the  votive  bracelets  hung 
upon  her  breast,  and  in  the  rings  on  her  hands. 
A  living  creature  would  have  given  way  under 
so  great  a  weight  of  treasure.  Her  garments, 
falling  without  folds,  stretched  straight  from 
head  to  feet,  and  left  visible  only  her  hands. 
The  child  Jesus,  sustained  on  her  left  side, 
revealed  a  bit  of  his  brown  little  face  between 
the  brocade  and  the  jewels.  The  face  of  the 
Virgin,  burnished  by  time,  is  also  brown.  A 
gentle  serenity  possesses  her,  symbol  of  her 
eternal  blessedness.  She  looks  outward,  her 
sweet  gaze  scanning  constantly  the  devoted 
concourse.  There  shines  in  her  eyes  a  ray  of 
the  clearest  light,  and  this  artificial  gleam  seems 

60 


Saragossa 

like  the  intensity  and  fixedness  of  the  human 
gaze.  It  was  difficult  when  I  saw  her  for  the 
first  time  to  remain  indifferent  in  the  midst  of 
that  religious  demonstration,  and  not  to  add 
a  word  to  the  concert  of  enthusiastic  tongues 
talking  with  distinct  voices  to  the  Senora. 

I  was  watching  the  statue,  when  Augustine 
pressed  my  arm,  saying, — 

"  Look,  there  she  is  !  " 

"  Who,  the  Virgin  ?  I  am  looking  at  her 
now."  r"-''^'' 

"  No,  man,  Mariquilla  1  There,  in  front, 
close  to  the  column.'* 

I  looked,  but  I  saw  only  a  great  many 
people.  We  immediately  quitted  our  place, 
looking  about  for  a  way  to  get  through  the 
multitude  to  the  other  side. 

"  She  is  not  with  Candiola,'*  said  Augustine, 
joyously.  "  She  has  come  with  the  servant." 
And,  saying  this,  he  elbowed  his  way  to  one 
side  and  the  other  to  make  a  road,  punching 
backs  and  breasts,  stepping  on  feet,  matting 
down  hats,  and  rumpling  clothing.  I  followed 
behind  him,  causing  equal  destruction  right  and 
left.  At  last  we  came  to  the  beautiful  young 
girl,  and  it  was  really  she,  as  I  could  see  at  once 
with  my  own  eyes. 

The  enthusiastic  passion  of  my  good  friend 

6i 


Saragossa 

did  not  deceive  me.  Mariquilla  was  worth 
the  trouble  of  being  extravagantly,  madly 
loved.  Her  pale  brunette  skin,  her  deeply 
black  eyes,  her  perfect  nose,  her  incomparable 
mouth,  and  her  beautiful  low  forehead  attracted 
attention  to  her  at  once.  There  was  in  her 
face  as  in  her  body  a  certain  light  and  delicate 
voluptuousness.  When  she  lowered  her  eyes, 
it  seemed  to  me  as  if  a  sweet  and  lovely  mist 
surrounded  her.  She  smiled  gravely ;  and 
when  she  approached  us,  her  looks  revealed 
timidity.  Everything  about  her  showed  the 
reserved  and  circumspect  passion  of  a  woman 
of  character,  and  she  seemed  to  me  little  given 
to  talking,  lacking  in  coquetry,  and  poor  in 
artifices.  I  afterwards  had  reason  to  confirm 
this,  my  early  judgment.  There  shone  in  the 
face  of  Mariquilla  a  heavenly  calm,  and  a  cer- 
tain security  in  herself.  Different  from  most 
women,  like  few  among  them,  that  soul  would 
not  readily  change,  except  for  just  and  righteous 
reasons. 

Other  women  of  quick  sensibility  pour  them- 
selves out  like  wax  before  a  small  fire  ;  but 
Mariquilla  was  made  of  the  best  metal,  yielding 
only  to  a  great  fire,  and  when  that  came  she 
was  of  necessity  like  molten  metal  that  burns 
when  it  touches. 

62 


Saragossa 

Besides  her  beauty,  the  elegance  and  even 
luxury  of  her  dress  attracted  my  attention. 
Having  heard  much  of  the  avarice  of  Can- 
diola,  I  supposed  that  he  would  have  re- 
duced his  daughter  to  the  utmost  extremes  of 
wretchedness  in  matters  of  dress.  It  was  not 
so.  As  Montoria  told  me  afterwards,  the 
stingiest  of  the  stingy  not  only  permitted  his 
daughter  some  expenses,  but  now  and  then 
made  her  some  little  present  which  he  looked 
upon  as  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  mundane  splendor. 

If  Candiola  was  capable  of  letting  some  of 
his  relations  die  of  hunger,  to  his  daughter  he 
gave  a  phenomenal,  a  scandalous  amount  of 
pocket-money.  Although  he  was  a  miser,  he 
was  a  father ;  he  loved  his  girl  very  much, 
finding  in  his  generosity  to  her  perhaps  the 
only  pleasure   of  his  arid  existence. 

Somewhat  more  must  be  said  in  regard  to 
this,  but  it  will  appear  little  by  little  in  the 
course  of  the  story.  And  now  I  must  say  that 
my  friend  had  not  yet  spoken  ten  words  to  his 
adored  Mariquilla,  when  a  man  approached  us 
abruptly,  and  after  having  looked  at  the  two 
for  an  instant  with  flashing  eyes,  spoke  to  the 
young  girl,  taking  her  by  the  arm,  and  saying, 
with  a  show  of  anger,  — 

"  What  is  going  on  here  ?     And  you,  good 

63 


"».- 


Saragossa 

Guedlta,  what  brought  you  to  the  Pilar  at  such 
an  hour  ?  Go  to  the  house,  go  to  the  house 
immediately  !  " 

And  pushing  before  him  mistress  and  maid,  he 
carried  them  both  off  towards  the  door  and  the 
street,  and  the  three  disappeared  from  our  sight. 
It  was  Candiola.  I  remember  him  well,  and 
the  remembrance  makes  me  tremble  with  horror. 
Further  on  you  will  know  why.  Since  the  brief 
scene  in  the  church  del  Pilar,  the  image  of  that 
man  has  been  engraven  on  my  memory,  and 
certainly  his  facfe  was  not  one  which  would  let 
itself  be  quickly  forgotten."  Old,  bent,  of 
miserable  and  sickly  *aspect,  crooked  and  dis- 
agreeable, lean  of  face,  with  sunken  cheeks, 
1  Candiola  roused  antipathy  from  the  first  mo- 
;  ment.  His  nose,  sharp  and  hooked  like  the 
beak  of  a  bird,  his  chin,  peaked  also,  the  coarse 
hair  of  his  grizzled  eyebrows,  the  greenish 
eyes,  the  forehead  furrowed  as  if  by  a  ruler  with 
deep  parallel  wrinkles,  the  cartilaginous  ears, 
the  yellowish  skin,  the  metallic  quality  of  the 
voice,  the  slovenly  clothes,  the  insulting 
grimaces,  —  all  his  personality  from  head  to 
foot,  from  his  bag  wig  to  the  sole  of  his  coarse 
shoe,  produced  at  sight  an  unconquerable  re- 
pulsion. It  can  readily  be  understood  that  he 
had  not  a  single  friend. 

64 


Saragossa 

Candiola  had  no  beard ;  his  face,  according 
to  the  fashion,  was  quite  clean  shaven,  although 
the  razor  did  not  enter  the  field  more  than  once 
a  week.  If  Don  Jeronimo  had  had  a  beard,  it 
would  have  made  him  seem  very  much  like  a 
certain  Venetian  shop-keeper  whom  I  after- 
wards came  to  know  very  well,  travelling  in 
the  great  world  of  books,  and  in  whom  I  find  \/j 
certain  traits  of  physiognomy  that  recalled  the 
man  who  had  so  brusquely  presented  himself 
to  us  in  the  temple  del  Pilar. 

"  Did  you  see  that  miserable  and  ridiculous 
old  man  ?  '*  Augustine  asked  me  when  we  were 
alone,  looking  towards  the  door  where  the  three 
people  had  disappeared. 

"  He  evidently  does  n't  like  his  daughter  to 
have  admirers." 

"  But  I  am  sure  that  he  did  not  see  me  talk- 
ing with  her.  He  has  suspicions,  nothing 
more.  If  he  should  pass  from  suspicion  to 
certitude,  Mariquilla  and  I  would  be  lost.  Did 
you  see  that  look  he  threw  us,  the  damned  J 
miser  ?  —  he  is  black  from  his  soul  to  his  ' 
Satanic  hide."  * 

"  Bad  sort  of  father-in-law  to  have." 

"  Bad  enough,"  said  Montoria,  sadly.     "  He 
would  be  dear  in  exchange  for  a  spoonful  of 
verdigris  !     I   am  sure  he  will  abuse  her    to- 
5  65 


Saragossa 

night ;  but  fortunately  he  is  not  in  the  habit  of 
ill-treating  her." 

"  And  would  not  the  Senor  Candida  be 
pleased  to  see  her  married  to  the  son  of  Don 
Jose  de  Montoria  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Are  you  mad  ?  I  see  you  talking  to  him 
of  that !  The  wretched  miser  not  only  watches 
i  his  daughter  as  if  she  were  a  bag  of  gold,  and 
T"  is  not  disposed  to  give  her  to  anybody;  but  he 
'  has  also  an  ancient  and  profound  resentment 
against  my  father,  because  he  freed  some  un- 
happy debtors  from  his  fangs.  I  tell  you,  that 
if  he  discovers  that  his  daughter  loves  me,  he 
will  keep  her  locked  up  in  an  iron  chest  in  that 
cellar  of  his  where  he  keeps  his  hard  cash.  I 
don't  know  what  would  happen  if  my  father 
came  to  know  of  it.  My  flesh  creeps  just  to 
think  of  it.  The  worst  nightmare  which  dis- 
turbs my  slumbers  is  that  which  shows  me  the 
moment  when  senor  my  father  and  seiiora  my 
mother  learn  of  my  great  love  for  Mariquilla. 
A  son  of  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  enamoured  of 
a  daughter  of  Candiola,  a  young  man  who  is 
formally  destined  to  be  a  bishop,  —  a  bishop, 
Gabriel !  I  am  going  to  be  a  bishop,  in  the 
minds  of  my  parents  !  '* 

Saying  this,  Augustine  dashed  his  head  against 
the  sacred  wall  on  which  we  were  leaning. 

66 


/ 


Saragossa 

"  And  do  you  think  you  will  go  on  loving 
Mariquilla  ?  " 

"  Don't  ask  me  that !  "  he  replied  with  en- 
ergy. "Did  you  see  her?  If  you  saw  her, 
how  can  you  ask  me  if  I  will  go  on  loving  her  ? 
Her  father  and  mine  would  rather  see  me  dead 
than  married  to  her.  A  bishop,  Gabriel,  they 
wish  me  to  be  a  bishop  !  Think  of  being  a 
bishop  and  loving  Mariquilla  for  all  of  my 
life,  here  and  hereafter,  think  of  that  and 
pity  me !" 

"  But  God  opens  unknown  ways,"  I 
said. 

"  It  is  true,  and  sometimes  my  faith  is 
boundless.  Who  knows  what  to-morrow  will 
bring  forth  ?  God  and  the  Virgin  shall  guide 
me  henceforth." 

"  Are  you  devoted  to  this  Virgin  ?  " 

"  Yes.  My  mother  places  candles  before 
the  one  we  have  in  our  house,  that  I  may  not 
fall  in  battle ;  and  I  say  to  her  '  Sovereign 
Lady,  may  this  offering  also  serve  to  remind 
you  that  I  cannot  cease  from  loving  the  daugh- 
ter of  Candiola. '  " 

We  were  in  the  nave  upon  which  opened  the 
chapel  del  Pilar.  There  is  here  an  aperture 
in  the  wall,  by  which   the  devout,  descending 

67 


Saragossa 

two  or  three  steps,  approach  to  kiss  the  pedes- 
tal which  sustains  the  revered  image.  Au- 
gustine kissed  the  red  marble.  I  kissed 
it  also  ;  then  we  left  the  church  to  go  to  our 
abode. 


68 


kf,<r^ 


CHAPTER   VIII 


THE  following  day,  the  twenty-second, 
Palafox  said  to  the  messenger  who 
came  under  a  flag  of  truce  from  Moncey  to 
propose  terms  of  surrender. 

"7  do  not  know  how  to  surrender.  After 
death,  we  will  talk  about  thatT 

He  followed  this  with  a  long  and  elo- 
quent article  which  was  published  in  the  "  Ga- 
zette ;  "  but,  according  to  general  opinion, 
neither  that  document  nor  any  of  the  procla- 
mations which  appeared  with  the  signature  of 
the  commanding  general  were  his  own  compo- 
sition, but  that  of  his  friend,  Basilio  Boggiero, 
a  man  of  great  judgment,  who  was  often  seen 
in  situations  of  danger,  in  the  corhpany  of 
patriots  and  military  leaders. 

It  is  excusable  to  say  that  the  army  of  the 
defence  was  very  much  inspired  by  the  glori- 
ous action  of  the  twenty-first.  It  was  necessary 
to  give  expression  to  this  ardor,  to  arrange  a 
sortie,  and  so  in  effect  it  was  done ;  but  it  hap- 
pened that  all  wished  to  take  part  in  this  at  the 

69 


Saragossa 

same  time,  and  it  was  necessary  to  bury  the 
dead.  The  sorties,  arranged  with  prudence, 
were  expedient ;  because  the  French,  extending 
their  lines  around  the  city,  were  preparing  for  a 
regular  siege,  and  had  begun  upon  their  outer 
works. 

The  district  of  Saragossa  contained  many 
people,  which  seemed  to  the  common  mind  a 
great  advantage,  but  which  seemed  to  the  in- 
telligent a  great  danger,  because  of  the  immense 
destruction  of  human  life  which  hunger  would 
quickly  bring,  —  hunger,  that  terrible  general 
who  is  always  the  conqueror  of  overcrowded 
besieged  cities.  Because  of  this  excess  of  peo- 
ple, the  sorties  were  timely. 

Renovales  made  one  on  the  twenty-fourth 
with  the  troops  of  the  fortress  of  San  Jose,  and 
cut  down  an  olive  grove  which  hid  the  works 
of  the  enemy. 

Don  John  O'Neill  made  a  sally  from  the 
suburb  on  the  twenty-fifth  with  the  volun- 
teers of  Aragon  and  Huesca,  taking  the  chance 
of  advantage  from  the  enemy's  lack  of  prepa- 
ration, and  killing  many  of  the  enemy's  men. 

On  the  thirty-first  was  made  the  most  tell- 
ing sally  of  all,  striking  in  two  distinct  places 
and  with  considerable  forces.  During  the  early 
part  of  the  day  we  had  -divided  to  perfection 

70 


Saragossa 

the  works  of  the  first  French  parallel,  thrown 
up  about  three  hundred  and  twenty  yards  from 
the  walls.  They  were  working  actively,  not 
resting  by  night,  and  we  could  see  that  they 
had  signals  of  colored  lanterns  along  the  whole 
line.  From  time  to  time  we  discharged  our 
guns,  but  we  caused  very  little  destruction. 
If  troops  were  especially  needed  for  a  recon- 
noissance,  they  were  despatched  in  less  than  no 
time. 

The  morning  of  the  thirty-first  arrived,  and 
my  battalion  was  charged  to  be  ready  to  march 
upon  orders  from  Renovales  to  attack  the 
enemy  In  their  centre,  from  the  Torrero  to 
the  Muela  road,  while  General  Butron  did  the 
same  by  the  Bernardona,  that  is  to  say,  by  the 
French  left,  sallying  with  sufficient  forces  of 
infantry  and  cavalry  by  the  gates  of  Sancho 
and  Portillo. 

In  order  to  distract  the  attention  of  the 
French,  the  general  commanded  that  a  battalion 
should  be  divided  into  skirmishing  parties  by 
the  Tenerias,  calling  the  attention  of  the  enemy 
in  that  direction.  In  the  mean  time,  with  some 
of  the  soldiers  of  Olivenza  and  part  of  those 
of  Valencia,  we  advanced  by  the  Madrid  road 
straight  towards  the  French  lines.  The  skirm- 
ishing parties  were  on  both  sides  of  the  road 

71 


Saragossa 

when  the  enemy  became  aware  of  our  presence, 
and  now  we  were  quicker  than  deer  in  doing 
up  the  first  troop  of  French  infantry  which 
came  to  meet  us.  Behind  a  half-ruined  coun- 
try house  some  fortifications  had  been  thrown 
up,  and  they  began  firing  with  good  aim  and 
much  slaughter.  For  an  instant  we  remained 
undecided,  then  some  twenty  men  of  us  flanked 
the  country  house,  while  the  rest  followed  the 
high  road,  pursuing  the  fugitives ;  but  Reno- 
vales  dashed  forward  and  led  us  on,  cutting 
down  and  bayoneting  those  who  were  defend- 
ing the  house.  At  the  moment  when  we  set 
foot  within  the  first  defence  I  noticed  that  my 
rank  was  thinned  out.  I  saw  some  of  my 
companions  fall,  breathing  their  last  sighs.  I 
looked  to  my  right,  fearing  not  to  find  my  be- 
loved friend  among  the  living ;  but  God  had 
preserved  him.  Montoria  and  I  were  un- 
harmed. 

We  could  not  spend  much  time  in  commu- 
nicating to  each  other  the  satisfaction  that  we 
felt  at  finding  ourselves  still  alive,  because 
Renovales  gave  orders  to  follow  on,  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  line  of  intrenchments  that  the 
French  were  raising.  We  abandoned  the  high 
road  and  made  a  deflection,  turning  to  the  right 
with  the  intention  of  joining  the  volunteers  of 

72 


Saragossa 

Huesca,  who  were  attacking  by  the  Muela 
road. 

It  may  be  understood  by  what  I  have  re- 
lated that  the  French  did  not  expect  that 
sortie,  and  that,  taken  completely  unawares, 
they  were  holding  there,  besides  the  scanty 
force  that  kept  the  works,  the  engineers  oc- 
cupied in  digging  the  trenches  of  the  first 
parallel.  We  attacked  them  vigorously,  turning 
upon  them  a  murderous  fire,  improving  the 
minutes  well  before  the  dreaded  reinforcements 
should  arrive.  We  took  prisoners  those  whom 
we  met  without  arms ;  we  shot  those  who  had 
them.  We  took  the  picks  and  spades,  —  all 
this  with  unequalled  energy,  animating  one 
another  with  fiery  words,  exalted  above  all 
by  the  thought  that  they  were  watching  us 
from  the  city. 

In  this  attack  we  were  fortunate,  for  while 
we  were  destroying  those  at  work  on  the 
intrenchments,  the  troops  who  had  made  the 
sortie  on  the  left  were  carrying  on  a  successful 
struggle  with  the  detachments  which  the 
enemy  had  in  the  Bernardona.  While  the  vol- 
unteers of  Huesca,  the  grenadiers  of  Palafox, 
and  the  Walloon  guards  defeated  the  French 
infantry,  the  squadron  of  Numancia  and  Oli- 
venza   cavalry  cautiously  emerged  through  the 

73 


Saragossa 

Puerta  de  Sancho,  and  making  a  wide  detour 
occupied  the  Alagon  road  on  one  side,  and  the 
Muela  on  the  other,  exactly  when  the  French 
drew  back  from  the  left  to  the  centre,  in  need 
of  greater  auxiliary  forces.  Finding  them- 
selves in  their  element,  our  fiery  cavalry  sprang 
forward,  destroying  whatever  was  encountered 
in  the  way,  and  then  the  disgraced  infantry, 
who  were  fleeing  towards  Torrero,  fell,  and 
were  trampled  underfoot. 

In  their  dispersion,  many  fell  beneath  our 
bayonets,  and  if  their  desire  to  flee  from  the 
horses  was  great,  great  also  was  our  anxiety 
to  receive  them  in  manner  worthy  of  our 
swords.  Some  ran,  throwing  themselves  into 
the  trenches,  not  being  able  to  jump  over 
them  ;  others  surrendered  at  discretion,  throw- 
ing down  their  arms  ;  some  defended  them- 
selves with  heroism,  permitting  themselves  to 
be  slain  before  giving  up  ;  'and  at  the  last  there 
failed  not  a  few  who,  shutting  themselves  up 
in  the  brick  kiln  filled  up  with  boughs  and 
timber,  set  fire  to  it,  preferring  to  die  by 
roasting,   rather  than  be  taken  prisoners. 

All  this  which  I  have  related  in  detail 
passed  in  a  very  short  time,  while  the  French 
commander,  having  seen  enough  in  this  hour, 
detached    sufficient    forces   to    hold    back   and 

74 


Saragossa 

punish  our  too  audacious  expedition.  They 
beat  the  drum  in  Monte  Torrero,  and  we  saw 
a  great  force  of  cavalry  coming  against  us  ;  but 
we  who  were  with  Renovales  had  had  our 
desire,  the  same  as  those  with  Butron,  and 
were  not  obhged  to  wait  for  those  horsemen 
who  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  action ;  so  we 
retired,  giving  them  from  a  distance  a  "Good- 
day  "  of  the  most  sharp  and  pointed  phrases 
in  our  vocabulary.  We  still  had  time  to  make 
useless  some  pieces  placed  ready  for  employ- 
ment on  the  following  day.  We  took  a 
multitude  of  tools  and  spades,  and  we  de- 
stroyed in  all  haste  whatever  we  could  of  their 
intrenchments  without  losing  hold  upon  the 
dozens  of  prisoners,  of  which  we  had  taken 
up  a  collection. 

Juan  Pirli,  one  of  our  companions  in  the 
battalion,  was  carrying  home  to  Saragossa  the 
steel  helmet  of  an  engineer  for  the  admiration 
of  the  public,  and  also  a  frying-pan  in  which 
were  still  the  remnants  of  a  breakfast  begun 
in  camp  before  Saragossa  and  ended  in  the 
other    world. 

We  had  had  nine  killed  and  eight  wounded 
in  our  battalion.  When  Augustine  rejoined 
me  near  the  Carmen  gate,  I  noticed  that  one 
of  his  hands  was  stained  with  blood. 

75 


Saragossa 

"  Are  you  wounded  ?  "  I  asked,  examining 
the  hand.     "  It  is  nothing  more  than  a  scratch.'* 

"  It  is  a  scratch/'  he  replied ;  "  but  it  was 
not  made  by  ball,  lance,  nor  sabre,  but  by 
teeth,  because  when  I  gripped  that  Frenchman 
who  lifted  up  his  pick  to  brain  me,  the  damned 
fellow  set  his  teeth  into  my  hand  like  a  dog 
at  bay." 

When  we  entered  the  city,  some  by  the 
Puerta  del  Carmen,  some  by  the  Portillo,  all 
the  pieces  of  the  redoubts  and  forts  of  Medio- 
dia  poured  a  fire  against  the  columns  which 
were  coming  after  us.  The  two  sorties  com- 
bined had  done  damage  enough  to  the  French. 
In  addition  to  losing  many  men,  a  small  part 
of  their  intrenchments  had  been  made  useless 
to  them,  and  we  had  possessed  ourselves  of  a 
considerable  number  of  their  tools.  Besides 
this,  the  official  engineers  that  Butron  took 
with  him  on  that  daring  venture  had  had  time 
to  examine  the  works  of  the  besiegers,  and 
measure  them,  and  could  give  descriptions  of 
them  to  the  commanding  general. 

The  rampart  wall  was  invaded  by  the 
people.  They  had  heard  within  the  city  the 
shooting  of  the  skirmishes,  and  men  and  wo- 
men, old  people  and  children  had  run  out  to 
see  what  glorious  action  was  bulletined  on  the 

76 


Saragossa 

plaza.  We  were  received  with  exclamations 
of  rejoicing,  and  from  San  Jose  all  the  way  to 
the  Trinitarios,  the  long  line  of  men  and 
women,  looking  towards  the  battlefield,  climbed 
upon  the  walls,  and  clapping  their  hands  at 
our  arrival,  waving  their  handkerchiefs,  pre- 
sented a  magnificent  sight.  After  the  cannon 
sounded,  the  redoubts  together  poured  a  fire 
upon  the  field  that  we  had  just  abandoned, 
and  their  voices  seemed  a  triumphal  salvo,  as 
it  mingled  with  the  huzzas  and  shouts  of  joy. 

In  the  surrounding  houses,  the  windows  and 
balconies  were  filled  with  women,  and  the 
interest  or  curiosity  of  some  of  those  in  the 
streets  was  such  that  they  went  into  the  hurry- 
ing crowd  in  numbers,  and  up  to  the  cannons, 
to  congratulate  the  brave  souls  and  soothe 
with  kind  words  their  nerves,  high  strung  with 
the  noise  of  artillery,  which  is  unlike  anything 
else  in  the  world.  It  was  necessary  to  com- 
mand the  multitude  to  depart  from  the  for- 
tress at  the  Portillo.  The  crowd  in  the  Santa 
Engracia  gave  that  place  the  aspect  of  a  theatre, 
of  a  public  festival.  The  fire  of  the  cannon 
ceased  at  last,  having  no  more  need  to  pro- 
tect our  retreat,  and  the  Castle  Aljaferia  alone 
sent  an  occasional  shot  against  the  works  of 
the  enemy. 

77 


Saragossa 

In  reward  for  our  action  on  that  day  it  was 
granted  us  on  the  next  to  wear  a  red  ribbon 
on  the  breast  by  way  of  decoration  ;  in  justice 
to  the  hazards  of  that  sortie,  Father  Boggiero 
told  us,  among  other  things  uttered  by  the 
mouth  of  our  general,  "  Yesterday  you  marked 
the  last  day  of  the  year  with  an  action  worthy 
of  yourselves.  At  the  sound  of  the  bugle 
your  swords  leaped  from  their  scabbards  and 
struck  to  the  ground  haughty  heads  humbled 
by  your  valor  and  patriotism.  Numantia  ! 
Olivenza  !  I  have  now  seen  that  your  light 
horse  will  know  how  to  preserve  the  honor 
of  this  army  and  the  enthusiasm  of  these  sacred 
walls  !  Wear  these  blood-stained  swords  that 
are  the  sign  of  your  glory  and  the  protection 
of  your  country." 


78 


CHAPTER    IX 

FROM  that  day,  as  memorable  in  the 
second  siege  as  Eras  in  the  first  siege, 
began  the  great  work  in  whose  frenzy  and 
exaltation  both  besiegers  and  besieged  lived 
for  the  next  month  and  a  half  The  sorties 
made  during  the  first  days  of  January  were 
not  of  much  importance.  The  French,  hav- 
ing finished  their  first  parallel,  advanced  in 
a  zig-zag  towards  opening  their  second,  and 
worked  on  it  with  so  much  activity  that 
very  soon  we  saw  our  two  best  positions 
in  the  Mediodia,  San  Jose  and  the  redoubt 
del  Pilar,  threatened  by  siege  batteries,  every 
one  with  a  dozen  cannon.  I  must  be  excused 
for  saying  that  we  did  not  cease  to  make 
trouble  for  them,  keeping  up  an  incessant  fire, 
and  surprising  them  with  sudden  skirmishes, 
but  this  was  all.  Junot,  who  now  took  the 
place  of  Moncey,  carried  forward  the  work 
with  great  diligence. 

Our  battalion  remained  in  the  redoubt  raised 
at  the  outer  end  of  the  Huerva  bridge.     The 

79 


Saragossa 

radius  of  our  fire  was  considerable,  crossing 
that  of  San  Jose.  The  batteries  of  Los  Mar- 
tires,  of  the  Botanical  Garden,  and  of  the  Torre 
del  Pino  further  within  the  city  were  less 
important  than  the  two  bodies  holding  the 
advanced  positions,  and  served  as  auxiliaries. 

Numbers  of  Saragossan  volunteers  were  with 
us  in  the  garrison,  some  of  the  soldiers  of  the 
guard,  and  various  armed  peasants  who  rather 
elected  themselves  to  our  corps  than  came  into 
it  by  our  choice.  Eight  cannons  held  the 
redoubt.  Don  Domingo  Larripa  was  our 
leader.  The  artillery  was  commanded  by  Don 
Francisco  Betbeze.  As  chief  of  engineers,  we 
had  the  great  Simono,  high  official  of  that  dis- 
tinguished service,  and  a  man  of  such  quality 
that  he  was  able  to  quote  himself  as  a  model 
of  all  good  military  men,  both  in  valor  and  in 
knowledge. 

The  redoubt  was  a  work  sufficiently  strong 
for  the  purpose,  and  not  lacking  in  any  material 
requisite  for  defending  itself.  Over  the  en- 
trance gate  at  the  extremity  of  the  bridge  its 
constructors  had  placed  a  tablet  with  this 
inscription,  — 

The  indestructible  redoubt  of  our  Lady  of  the 
Pillar.  Saragossans!  Die  for  the  Virgin  del  Pilar 
or  conquer  I 

80 


Saragossa 

We  had  our  lodging  within  the  redoubt,  and 
though  the  place  was  not  altogether  bad,  we 
went  on  poorly  enough.  The  rations  were 
provided  by  a  committee  recommended  by  the 
military  administration  ;  but  this  committee,  to 
our  sorrow,  was  not  able  to  attend  to  us  prop- 
erly. By  good  fortune,  and  to  the  honor  of 
that  generous  people,  food  was  sent  to  us  from 
the  neighboring  houses,  the  best  of  their  pro- 
visions ;  and  we  were  frequently  visited  by  the 
charitable  women,  who  since  the  battle  of  the 
thirty-first  had  taken  it  upon  themselves  to 
nurse  and  care  for  our  poor  wounded  heroes. 

I  have  not  spoken  of  Pirli.  Pirli  was  a  boy 
from  outside  the  city,  a  rustic  about  twenty 
years  of  age,  and  in  such  jolly  condition  that 
the  most  dangerous  situations  only  moved  him 
to  a  nervous  and  feverish  joy.  I  never  saw 
him  sad.  He  met  the  French  singing ;  and 
when  the  bullets  whistled  past  his  head,  he 
capered  about,  making  a  thousand  grotesque 
gestures,  throwing  up  his  hands  and  fairly 
dancing.  When  the  fire  was  thick  as  hail,  he 
called  the  bullets  "  hailstones."  He  called  the 
cannon-balls  "  hot  cakes  ;  "  he  called  the  hand- 
grenades,  "senoras  ;"  and  the  powder  he  called 
"black  flour,"  using  other  queer  terms  which  I 
do    not    now    remember.     Pirli,  although  not 


I 


Saragossa 

at    all    a     serious    person,    was    a    charming 
companion. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  have  spoken  of 
Tio  Garces.  He  was  a  man  of  forty-five 
years,  a  native  of  Garrapinillos,  very  brave, 
bronzed,  sawed-off  looking,  with  limbs  of  steel ; 
there  was  no  one  so  active  or  so  imperturbable 
under  fire.  He  was  somewhat  talkative,  and 
was  a  little  inclined  to  be  imprudent  in  his  con- 
versation, but  with  a  certain  wit  in  his  garrulity. 
He  had  a  small  estate  in  the  environs,  and  a 
very  modest  house  ;  but  he  had  levelled  it  with 
his  own  hands,  and  cut  down  his  pear-trees,  so 
that  the  enemy  could  not  use  them.  I  heard 
of  a  thousand  of  his  valorous  deeds  in  the  first 
siege,  and  he  wore  a  decoration  on  his  right 
sleeve,  the  embroidered  shield  of  distinction  of 
the  sixteenth  of  August.  He  dressed  badly, 
and  went  almost  half-naked,  not  because  he 
lacked  clothing,  but  because  he  had  not  time 
to  put  it  on.  He  and  others  like  him  were 
without  doubt  those  who  inspired  the  celebrated 
phrase  of  which  I  have  already  made  mention  : 
"  Their  bodies  were  clothed  only  in  glory." 
He  slept  without  shelter,  and  ate  less  than  an 
anchorite  ;  indeed  with  two  pieces  of  bread  and 
a  couple  of  bites  of  dried  beef  hard  as  hide,  he 
had  rations  for  the  day. 

.82 


Saragossa 

He  was  a  man  somewhat  given  to  medita- 
tion. When  he  saw  the  works  of  the  second 
parallel,  he  said,  looking  at  the  French : 
"  Thanks  be  to  God,  they  are  drawing  near. 
Cuerno  !  Cuerno  !  these  people  are  a  trial  to 
one's  patience  !  " 

"  What  a  hurry  you  are  in,  uncle  Garces," 
we  said  to  him. 

"  I  should  say  so.  I  want  to  plant  my  trees 
again  before  winter  is  over.  And  next  month 
I  want  to  build  my  little  house  again." 

Truly    Tio    Garces    should    have    worn    a 
tablet   on  his   brow  like    that   on  the   bridge,    ' 
reading,  "An  unconquerable  man." 

But  who  comes  there,  advancing  slowly  along 
the  valley  of  the  Huerva,  leaning  upon  a  thick 
stick  and  followed  by  a  lively  little  dog  which   , 
barked  at  all  the  passers-by,  merely  for  mis-    ru^    (Dtii^w 
chief,  without  any  intention  of  biting  ?     It  is   ^^  OUOfL 
the  friar.   Father  Mateo  del   Busto,  reader  and 
qualifier  of  the  order  of  Saint  Francis  de  Paula, 
chaplain  of  the  second  company  of  Saragossa 
volunteers,  an  important  man,  who,  in  spite  of 
his  age,  was  seen  during  the  first  siege   in  all 
places  of  danger,  succoring  the  wounded,  help- 
ing the  dying,  carrying  ammunition  to  the  well, 
and  cheering  all  by  his  gentle  accents.     Enter- 
ing the  redoubt,  he  showed  us  a  large  and  heavy 

83 


Saragossa 

basket  which  he  had  toiled  to  bring  here,  and 
in  which  was  food  better  than  that  of  our 
ordinary  table. 

"  These  cakes,"  said  he,  placing  it  on  the 
ground,  and  taking  out  one  by  one  things 
which  he  named  as  he  produced  them,  "  have 
been  given  me  in  the  house  of  that  most 
excellent  lady,  the  Countess  de  Bureta,  and 
this  in  the  house  of  Don  Pedro  Ric.  Here 
you  have  a  couple  of  slices  of  ham  from  my 
convent,  which  was  for  Father  Loshollos,  whose 
stomach  is  not  strong,  but  he  renounced  this 
luxury  and  gave  it  to  me  to  take  to  you.  See, 
how  does  this  bottle  of  wine  look  to  you  ? 
How  much  would  those  foreign  fellows  yonder 
give  for  it  ?  " 

We  all  looked  towards  the  plain.  The  little 
dog,  leaping  impudently  upon  the  wall,  began 
to  bark  at  the  French  lines. 

"  I  have  also  brought  you  a  couple  of 
pounds  of  dried  fruit  which  has  been  kept 
in  the  dispensary  at  our  house.  We  were 
going  to  preserve  them  in  liquor,  but  you 
taste  them  first  of  any  one,  my  brave  boys. 
I  have  not  forgotten  thee  at  all,  my  beloved 
Pirli,"  he  continued,  turning  to  the  boy  of 
that  name ;  "  and  as  you  are  half  naked,  and 
without  a  cloak,  I   have  brought  you  a  mag- 

84 


Saragossa 

nificent  covering.  Do  you  see  this  bundle  ? 
Well,  here  is  an  old  gown  that  I  have  kept 
to  give  to  a  poor  man.  Now,  I  present  it  to 
you  as  a  covering  for  your  body.  It  is  un- 
suitable clothing  for  a  soldier;  but  if  the  gown 
does  not  make  the  monk,  neither  does  the 
uniform  make  the  soldier.  Put  it  on,  and 
you  will  be  very  comfortable  in  it." 

The  friar  gave  our  friend  his  parcel,  and 
Pirli  put  on  the  garment,  laughing  and  danc- 
ing about ;  and  as  he  was  still  carrying  on  his 
head  the  engineer's  helmet  which  he  had  taken 
in  the  enemy's  camp  on  the  thirty-first,  he  pre- 
sented a  figure  stranger  than  can  readily  be 
imagined. 

A  little  later,  several  women  also  arrived 
with  baskets  of  provisions.  The  arrival  of 
femininity  swiftly  transformed  the  aspect  of 
the  redoubt.  I  do  not  know  from  where 
they  produced  a  guitar ;  it  is  certain  that 
they  produced  one  from  somewhere.  One 
of  those  present  graciously  began  to  play 
the  measures  of  that  incomparable,  divine, 
immortal  dance,  the  jot  a,  and  in  a  moment 
a  great  revelry  of  dancing  was  going  on. 

Pirli,  whose  grotesque  figure  began  in  a 
French  engineer  and  ended  in  a  Spanish 
friar,  was    the    most   carried    away   of  any   of 

85 


Saragossa 

the  dancers,  and  could  not  keep  tune  with 
his  partner,  a  most  graceful  girl  in  Spanish 
highland  dress,  who  was  called  Manuela, 
whom  I  noticed  the  first  moment  that  I  saw 
her.  She  was  about  twenty-two  years  of 
age,  and  was  slender,  of  a  pure  pale  com- 
plexion. The  excitement  of  the  dance  quickly 
flushed  her  cheeks,  and  by  degrees  her  move- 
ments grew  more  lively,  unmindful  of  fatigue. 
With  her  eyes  half  shut,  her  cheeks  rosy,  her 
arms  moving  to  the  music  of  the  sweet  strains, 
she  shook  her  skirts  with  lively  grace;  tak- 
ing her  steps  lightly,  and  presenting  to  us  now 
her  brow,  and  now  her  shoulders,  Manuela 
held  us  enchanted. 

The  ardor  of  the  dancing  crowd,  the  lively 
music,  and  the  enthusiasm  of  the  rest  of  the 
dancers  augmented  her  own,  until  at  last, 
breathless  with  fatigue,  she  dropped  her 
arms  and  fell  to  earth  like  a  stone  or  a 
pomegranate. 

Pirli  stood  over  her,  and  surrounded  her 
by  a  sort  of  corral  formed  of  himself  and  the 
basket  of  provisions. 

"  Let  us  see  what  you  have  brought  us, 
Manuelilla,"  said  Pirli.  "If  'twere  not  for 
thee  and  Father  Busto,  we  should  die  of  hun- 
ger.    And  if  it  were  not  for  this  little  dance 

86 


Saragossa 

with  which  we  get  rid  of  the  bad  taste  of  the 
*  hot  cakes '  and  the  '  senoras,'  what  would 
become  of  us  poor  soldiers  ?  " 

"  I  bring  you  whatever  there  is,"  replied 
Manuela,  opening  the  basket  of  provisions. 
"  Wait  a  little.  If  the  siege  lasts,  you  will 
be   eating  bricks." 

"  We  shall  have  bullets  mixed  with  black 
flour,"  said  Pirli.  "  Manuelilla,  have  you  got 
over  being  afraid  of  the  bullets  yet  ?  "  Saying 
this,  he  seized  his  gun,  and  shot  it  off  into 
the  air.  The  girl  gave  a  sharp  scream,  and, 
startled,  sprang  up  as  if  to  escape. 

"It  is  nothing,  daughter,"  said  the  friar; 
"  brave  women  are  not  afraid  of  powder.  On  the 
contrary,  they  should  take  as  much  pleasure  in 
it  as  in  the  sound  of  castanets  and  mandolins." 

"  When  I  hear  a  ball,"  said  Manuela,  coming 
slowly  and  timidly  back,  "  there  is  not  a  drop 
of  blood  left  in  my  veins." 

At  this  moment  the  French,  wishing  to  try 
the  artillery  of  their  second  parallel,  shot  off 
a  cannon,  and  the  ball  came  against  the  wall 
of  the  redoubt,  shattering  the  loose  bricks  into 
a  thousand  pieces.  Everybody  rose  to  look 
at  the  enemy.  The  highland  girl  cried  out 
in  terror ;  and  Tio  Garces  was  moved  to 
scream    through  a    loop-hole    at    the    French, 

87 


\e- 


Saragossa 

heaping  upon  them  the  most  insolent  words, 
accompanied  by  many  exclamations.  The 
little  dog,  running  from  one  end  of  the  place 
i  to  the  other,  barked  furiously. 

"  Manuela,  let  us  dance  another  jota  to  the 
sound  of  this  music,  and  viva  the  Virgin  del 
Pilar,"  cried  Pirli,  jumping  about  like  one  out 
of  his  senses. 

Manuela  rose  on  tiptoe,  impelled  by  curi- 
osity, and  slowly  stretched  up  her  head  to  look 
at  the  camp  from  the  wall.  Then,  casting  her 
glance  over  the  level  plain,  she  seemed  to 
dissipate,  little  by  little,  the  terrors  of  her  faint- 
ing spirit;  and  at  last  we  saw  her  surveying  the 
enemy's  lines  with  a  certain  serenity,  and  even 
with  a  little  complacency. 

"  One,  two,  three  cannon  !  "  she  said,  count- 
ing the  fiery  mouths  which  were  discernible 
at  that  distance.  "  Come,  little  boys,  don't  be 
afraid.     This  is  nothing  to  you  !  " 

Over  near  San  Jose  was  heard  the  booming 
of  guns,  and  on  our  redoubt  sounded  the 
drum  calling  to  arms.  From  the  neighboring 
stronghold  had  sallied  forth  a  little  column 
that  exchanged  distant  shots  with  the  French 
workmen.  Some  of  these,  running  to  their 
left,  placed  themselves  within  arm's  length  of 
our   fire.     We   all   ran   to   the  walls,   disposed 


Saragossa 

to  send  them  a  few  hailstones,  and  without 
waiting  orders,  some  of  us  discharged  our 
guns  with  loud  huzzas. 

All  the  women  fled  by  the  bridge  towards 
the  city  except  Manuela.  Did  fear  prevent 
her  from  moving  ?  No.  Her  fear  was  great; 
she  trembled,  and  her  teeth  chattered  ;  her  face 
grew  pale ;  but  an  irresistible  curiosity  kept 
her  in  the  redoubt.  She  fastened  her  gaze  on 
the  sharp-shooters,  and  on  the  cannon  that 
was  about  to  be  discharged. 

"  Manuela,  are  you  not  going  ?  '*  said  Au- 
gustine. "  Does  n't  it  frighten  you  to  look 
at  all  that?" 

The  girl,  with  her  attention  fixed  on  the 
spectacle,  terrified,  trembling,  with  white  lips 
and  palpitating  bosom,  neither  moved  nor 
spoke. 

"  Manuelilla,"  said  Pirli,  running  up  to 
her,  "  take  my  gun  and  shoot  it  off." 

Contrary  to  what  we  expected,  Manuel- 
ilia  did  not  show  any  sign  of  terror. 

"  Take  it,  please,"  cried  Pirli,  making  her 
take  the  gun.  "  Put  your  thumb  here.  Aim 
over  yonder.  Fire  !  Viva  the  second  artillery 
woman  !  Viva  Manuela  Sancho  and  the  Vir- 
gin del  Pilar  !  " 

The  girl  took  the  gun,  and,  to  judge  by  her 

89 


Saragossa 

actions,  and  the  stupor  of  her  looks,  it  seemed 
as  if  she  did  not  know  what  she  was  doing. 
But,  raising  the  gun  with  a  trembling  hand, 
she  aimed  at  the  field,  pulled  the  trigger,  and 
fired. 

A  thousand  fiery  shouts  of  applause  greeted 
the  discharge,  and  the  girl  left  the  gun.  She 
was  radiant  with  satisfaction,  and  her  delight 
deepened  the  roses  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Do  you  see  ?  You  have  already  lost  your 
fear  ?  "  said  the  priest.  "  There  is  nothing 
more  in  these  things  than  taking  hold  of  them. 
All  the  Saragossan  women  ought  to  do  the 
same,  and  then  Augustina  Casta  Alvarez 
would  not  be  the  one  glorious  exception  to 
her  sex." 

"  Bring  another  gun,"  exclaimed  the  girl ; 
"  I  wish  to  fire  again." 

"  They  have  already  marched  off,  if  you 
please  !  Are  n't  you  a  good  one  !  "  said  Pirli, 
preparing  to  make  an  onslaught  on  the  pro- 
vision basket.  "  To-morrow,  if  you  like,  you 
shall  be  invited  for  a  few  '  hot  cakes.'  Well, 
let  us  make  ourselves  comfortable  and  eat." 

The  friar,  calling  his  little  dog,  said  to  him  : 
"  That  is  enough,  my  son  ;  don't  bark  so,  nor 
take  it  so  much  to  heart  that  you  make  your- 
self hoarse.     Keep  your  boldness  until  to-mor- 

90 


Saragossa 

row.  To-day,  we  have  no  wish  to  employ  it, 
for  if  I  am  not  mistaken  they  are  hurrying 
away  to  get  behind  their  works." 

In  fact  the  skirmish  at  San  Jose  had  con- 
cluded, and  for  the  moment  the  French  were 
not  in  sight.  A  short  time  afterwards  the  sound 
of  the  guitar  was  renewed,  and  the  women  re- 
turning, the  sweet  undulations  of  the  jota  began 
again  with  Manuela  Sancho  and  the  great  Pirli 
in  the  first  line. 


91 


CHAPTER   X 

HEN    I    woke    at    daybreak    the    next 
morning    I    saw   Montoria,   who   was 
passing  by  the  wall. 

"  I  believe  that  the  bombardment  is  going 
to  begin,"  he  said  to  me ;  "  there  is  a  great 
activity  in  the  enemy's  lines." 

"  They  will  try  to  demolish  this  redoubt,"  I 
said,  getting  up  lazily.  "  How  gloomy  the  sky 
is,  Augustine  !      Day  dawns  very  sadly." 

"  I  believe  they  will  attack  on  all  sides  at 
once,  until  they  have  made  their  second  parallel. 
Do  you  know  that  Napoleon  in  Paris,  know- 
ing the  resistance  shown  by  this  city  in  the  first 
siege,  was  furious  with  Lefebre  Desnouettes  be- 
cause he  assaulted  the  plaza  by  the  Portillo 
and  the  Castle  Aljaferia.  He  called  for  a  plan 
of  Saragossa,  and  they  gave  it  to  him,  and  he 
showed  that  the  city  should  be  attacked  by 
Santa  Engracia." 

"  By  this  place  ?  A  black  day  is  indeed 
dawning  for  us  if  the  orders  of  Napoleon  are 
carried  out.  Tell  me,  have  we  anything  to  eat 
here  ?  " 

92 


Saragossa 

"  I  did  not  show  it  to  you  before  because  I 
wished  to  surprise  you,"  he  said  to  me,  show- 
ing me  a  basket  which  served  as  the  tomb  of 
two  cold  roast  fowls,  some  comfits  and  fine 
preserves. 

"You  brought  these  last  night?  Indeed! 
How  could  you  go  out  of  the  redoubt  ?  " 

"  I  got  leave  from  the  general  for  an  hour, 
and  Mariquilla  prepared  this  feast.  If  Can- 
diola  knows  that  two  of  the  hens  from  his 
chicken-corral  have  been  killed  and  roasted  to 
regale  two  of  the  defenders  of  the  city,  the 
devil  will  be  to  pay.  Let  us  eat  then,  Senor 
Araceli,  while  we  await  the  bombardment. 
Here  it  comes.  One  bomb  !  Another,  an- 
other ! " 

The  right  batteries  opened  fire  upon  San 
Jose  and  the  Pilar,  and  what  a  fire !  The 
whole  army  seemed  behind  the  cannon.  Away 
with  breakfasts,  away  with  the  morning  meal, 
away  with  tidbits  !  —  the  men  of  Aragon  will 
have  no  food  but  glory  ! 

The  unconquerable  fortress  answered  the 
insolent  besieger  with  a  tremendous  cannonade, 
and  soon  the  great  soul  of  our  fatherland 
moved  within  us.  The  balls,  beating  upon  the 
brick  walls  and  the  earthworks,  beat  down  the 
redoubt  as  if  it  were  a  toy  pelted  with  stones 

93 


Saragossa 

by  a  boy.  The  grenades,  falling  among  us, 
burst  with  a  great  noise,  and  the  bombs, 
passing  with  awful  majesty  over  our  heads, 
went  on  to  fall  into  the  streets  and  upon  the 
roofs  of  the  houses. 

Everybody  out !  Let  there  be  no  idle  or 
cowardly  people  in  the  city.  The  men  to  the 
walls,  the  women  to  the  bloody  hospitals,  the 
children  and  priests  to  carry  ammunition  ! 
Let  no  notice  be  taken  of  these  dreadful  and 
burning  things  which  bore  through  roofs,  pen- 
etrate dwelling-houses,  open  gates,  pierce  floors, 
descend  to  the  cellars,  and,  bursting,  scatter  the 
flames  of  hell  upon  the  tranquil  hearth,  sur- 
prising with  death  the  aged  invalid  on  his 
couch  and  the  child  in  his  cradle.  Nothing 
of  this  sort  matters.  Everybody  out  into  the 
street,  and  thus  save  honor  though  the  city 
perish,  and  the  churches  and  convents  and  hos- 
pitals and  the  estates  which  are  but  earthly 
things  !  The  Saragossans,  despising  material 
good  as  they  despised  life,  lived  by  their  spirits 
in  the  infinite  spaces  of  the  ideal. 

In  the  first  moments  the  Captain-General  and 
many  other  distinguished  personages  visited 
us,  —  such  as  Don  Mariano,  Cereso  the  priest 
of  Sas,  General  O'Neill,  San  Genis,  and  Don 
Pedro  Ric.  There  was  also  there  the  brave 
•  94   . 


Saragossa 

and  generous  Don  Jose  Montoria,  who  em- 
braced his  son,  saying  to  him  :  "  To-day  is  the 
day  to  conquer  or  to  die.  We  will  meet  each 
other  in  heaven/' 

Behind  Montoria,  Don  Roque  presented 
himself;  he  had  become  a  brave  fellow,  and  as 
he  had  been  employed  in  the  sanitary  service, 
he  began  to  show  a  feverish  activity  before 
there  were  any  wounded,  and  displayed  to  us 
a  good  sized  pile  of  lint.  Various  friars  min- 
gled among  the  combatants  during  the  early 
firing,  encouraging  us  with  mystic  fervor. 

At  the  same  time,  and  with  equal  fury,  the 
French  attacked  the  redoubt  del  Pilar  and 
the  fortress  of  San  Jose.  The  latter,  although 
more  formidable  in  aspect,  had  less  power  of 
resistance,  perhaps  because  it  presented  a 
broader  target  for  the  enemy's  fires.  But 
Renovales  was  there  with  the  Huesca  and  the 
Valencia  volunteers,  the  Walloon  guards,  and 
various  members  of  the  militia  of  Soria. 
The  great  lack  of  the  fortress  was  in  its  having 
been  constructed  for  the  protection  of  a  vast 
edifice,  which  the  enemy's  artillery  converted 
into  ruins  in  a  little  while ;  pieces  of  the  thick 
wall  were  forced  in  from  time  to  time,  and 
many  of  its  defenders  were  crushed.  We 
were  better  off.     Over  our  heads  we  had  only 

95 


Saragossa 

the  heavens,  and  if  no  roof  guarded  us  from 
the  bombs,  neither  did  masses  of  masonry  fall 
upon  us.  They  demolished  the  wall  by  the 
front  and  sides,  and  it  was  a  pity  to  see  how 
that  fragile  mass  fell  away  little  by  little,  plac- 
ing us  in  an  exposed  position.  Nevertheless, 
after  four  hours  of  incessant  iire  by  powerful 
artillery,  they  were  not  able  to  open  a  breach. 

Thus  passed  the  day  of  the  tenth  with  no 
advantage  for  the  besiegers  from  us,  even  if 
they  had  succeeded  in  getting  near  San  Jose 
and  opening  a  wide  breach,  which,  together 
with  the  ruined  condition  of  the  building, 
forced  the  unhappy  necessity  of  its  surrender. 
Yet,  in  the  mean  time,  the  fortress  had  not  been 
reduced  to  powder,  and,  dead  or  alive,  its  de- 
fenders had  hope.  Fresh  troops  were  sent 
there,  because  the  battalions  working  there 
since  morning  were  decimated  ;  and  when 
night  fell,  after  the  opening  of  the  breach 
and  the  fruitless  attempt  at  an  assault,  yet 
Renovales  held  the  blood-soaked  ruins,  among 
the  heaps  of  corpses,  with  only  the  third  part 
of  his  artillery. 

When  night  interrupted  the  firing,  there 
had  been  great  carnage  on  both  sides.  We 
ourselves  had  lost  many  by  death,  and  more 
were    wounded.     The  wounded    were    carried 

96 


Saragossa 

at  the  time  into  the  city  by  the  friars  and 
the  women ;  but  the  dead  still  gave  their 
last  service  with  their  cold  bodies,  for  they 
were  stoically  thrown  into  the  open  breach, 
which  was  being  stopped  up  with  sacks  of 
wool  and  earth. 

During  the  night  we  did  not  rest  for  one 
single  moment,  and  the  dawn  of  the  eleventh 
found  us  inspired  by  the  same  frenzy,  our 
pieces  already  pointed  against  the  enemy*s 
intrenchments,  and  already  piercing  with 
musket  shots  those  who  were  coming  to  flank 
us,  without  hindering  for  a  moment  the  work 
of  stopping  up  the  breach,  which  was  widen- 
ing, hour  by  hour  its  dreadful  spaces.  So  we 
endured  all  the  morning  until  the  moment 
when  they  began  the  assault  upon  San  Jose, 
now  converted  into  a  heap  of  ruins,  and  with 
most  of  its  garrison  dead.  Centring  the 
forces  upon  these  two  points,  they  fell  upon 
the  convent,  and  directed  an  audacious  move- 
ment upon  us ;  and  it  was  with  the  object  of 
making  our  breach  practicable  that  they  ad- 
vanced by  the  Torrero  road  with  two  cannons 
protected  by  a  column  of  infantry. 

At  that  moment  we  thought  ourselves  lost. 
The  feeble  walls  trembled,  and  the  bricks  were 
shattered  into  thousands  of  pieces.  We  ran 
7  97 


Saragossa 

up  to  the  breach,  which  was  widening  every 
instant,  where  they  poured  upon  us  a  horrible 
fire.  Seeing  that  the  redoubt  was  being  shat- 
tered to  pieces,  they  took  courage  to  come  to 
the  very  borders  of  the  fosse  itself  It  was 
madness  to  try  to  fill  that  terrible  space, 
and  to  show  an  uncovered  place  was  to  offer 
victims  without  number  to  the  fury  of  the 
enemy.  We  protected  ourselves  as  well  as  we 
could  with  sacks  of  wool  and  shovels  of  earth, 
and  many  stood  as  if  petrified  on  the  spot. 
The  firing  of  the  cannon  ceased  because  it 
seemed  necessary  ; J  there  was  a  moment  of 
indefinable  panic ;  the  guns  fell  from  our 
hands ;  we  saw  ourselves  routed,  destroyed, 
annihilated  by  that  rain  of  fire  that  seemed 
^.,^"''^  to  fill  the  air.  We  forgot  honor,  the  father- 
land, the  glory  of  death,  the  Virgin  del  Pilar, 
'k,  whose  name  adorned  the  bridge  and  the  "  un- 

conquerable "  defences.  The  most  dreadful 
confusion  reigned  in  our  ranks.  Descending 
suddenly  from  the  high  moral  level  of  our  souls, 
all  those  who  had  not  fallen  desired  life  of  one 
accord,  and,  leaping  over  the  wounded  and 
trampling  the  dead  under  foot,  we  fled  towards 
the  bridge,  abandoning  that  horrible  sepulchre 
before  it  should  shut  us  in,  entombing  us  all.) 
On    the    bridge   we  were  swallowed  up    by 

98 


Saragossa 

insupportable  terror  and  disorder.  There  is 
nothing  more  frenzied  than  a  coward.  His 
abject  meannesses  are  as  great  as  the  sub- 
limities  of  his  valor. 

Our  leaders  kept  crying  out  to  us,  "  Back, 
you  rabble  !  The  redoubt  del  Pilar  has  not 
surrendered  !  "  striking  our  swords  with  their 
sabres.  We  turned  back  on  the  bridge,  unable 
to  go  further,  as  reinforcements  came,  and  we 
stumbled  over  one  another,  the  fury  of  our 
fear  mingling  with  the  impetus  of  their  bravery. 

"  Back,  cowards  !  "  cried  our  officers,  striking 
us  in  the  faces,  "  and  die  in  the  breach  !  " 

The  redoubt  was  vacated.  None  but  the 
dead  and  the  wounded  were  there.  Suddenly 
we  saw  advance  amid  the  dense  smoke  and  the 
blackness  of  powder,  leaping  over  the  lifeless 
bodies  and  the  heaps  of  earth  and  the  ruins, 
and  the  guns  we  had  thrown  down,  and  the 
shattered  works,  a  figure,  dauntless,  pale, 
splendid,  of  tragic  calmness.  It  was  a  woman 
Vs^ho  had  made  her  way  forward  and,  penetrating 
the  abandoned  place,  was  marching  like  a  queen 
towards  the  horrible  breach.  Pirli,  who  was 
lying  on  the  ground,  wounded  in  the  leg,  ex- 
claimed in  affright, — 

"  Manuela  Sancho,  \^here  are  you  going?  *' 

All   this    passed  in   much  less  time  than  I 

99 


Saragossa 

take  to  tell  it.  After  Manuela  Sancho,  first 
one,  then  another,  then  many  hurried,  then 
all,  urged  on  by  the  leaders  whose  sabre-cuts 
had  prodded  us  to  the  point  of  duty.  This 
portentous  transformation  came  about  by  the 
impulse  of  every  man's  heart  obeying  senti- 
ments which  all  feel  without  any  one's  know- 
ing whence  the  mysterious  force  emanates. 
I  do  not  know  why  we  were  cowards,  nor  why 
we  were  brave  a  few  moments  later.  What  I 
do  know  is  that,  moved  by  an  extraordinary 
power,  immense  and  superhuman,  we  hurled 
ourselves  into  the  breach  behind  the  heroic 
woman,  at  the  point  where  the  French  were 
attempting  the  assault  with  ladders.  Without 
in  the  least  knowing  how  to  explain  it,  we  felt 
our  strength  increased  a  hundred-fold,  and 
crushed  them  back,  hurling  into  the  ditch 
those  men  of  cotton  who  a  little  while  ago  had 
seemed  to  us  men  of  steel.  With  shots  and 
sabre-cuts,  with  shells,  with  shovels  full  of 
earth,  by  blows,  and  bayonet-thrusts,  we  fought. 
Many  of  our  number  died  to  defend  others 
with  their  dead  bodies.  We  defended  the 
breach,  indeed,  and  the  French  were  obliged  to 
retire,  leaving  many  dead  and  wounded  at  the 
bottom  of  the  wall.  The  cannons  again  began 
firing,  and  the  unconquerable  redoubt  did  not 

TOO 


Saragossa 

fall    on    the    eleventh   into   the   hands   of  the 
French. 

When  the  tempest  of  fire  was  calmed,  we 
did  not  know  ourselves.  We  were  transfigured, 
and  something  new  and  unknown  palpitated 
in  the  depths  of  our  souls,  giving  us  an- un- 
heard-of fierceness.  The  following  day  Palafox 
said,  with  much  eloquence  :  "  Nor  balls,  nor 
bombs,  nor  shells  shall  make  our  faces  change 
color,  nor  can  all  France  accom.plish  that !  " 


lOI 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE  fortress  of  San  Jose  had  surrendered, 
or  rather  the  French  had  entered  it 
when  their  artillery  had  reduced  it  to  powder, 
and  all  of  its  defenders  had  fallen,  one  by  one, 
to  lie  among  its  fragments.  The  Imperial 
soldiers,  on  entering,  found  heaps  of  bodies  and 
stones  matted  together  with  blood.  They 
could  not  establish  themselves  there  because 
they  were  flanked  by  the  batteries  of  Los 
Martires  and  the  Botanical  Garden,  so  they 
continued  operations  by  mining,  in  order  to 
possess  themselves  of  those  two  points.  The 
fortifications  which  we  held  were  so  nearly 
destroyed  that  a  general  agreement  was  urgent, 
and  the  terrible  orders,  calling  upon  all  the 
inhabitants  of  Saragossa  to  work  in  renewing 
them.  The  proclamation  said  that  every  citi- 
zen should  carry  a  gun  in  one  hand  and  spade 
in  the  other. 

The  twelfth  and  thirteenth  were  without 
rest,  the  fire  diminishing  a  little  because  the 
besiegers,  warned   by  sad  experience,  did  not 

I02 


Saragossa 

o 

wish  to  risk  any  more  hand-to-hand  conflicts. 
Understanding  that  theirs  was  a  work  of 
patience  and  skill,  rather  than  of  boldness 
and  bravery,  they  opened  slowly,  and  with 
security,  roads  and  mines  which  should  lead  to 
the  possession  of  the  redoubt  without  loss  of 
men.  It  was  almost  necessary  to  build  our 
walls  anew,  or  rather  to  substitute  sacks  of 
earth  for  them,  an  operation  in  which  many 
friars,  canons,  civil  officials,  children,  and  women 
were  occupied.  The  artillery  was  almost  use- 
less, the  fosse  about  filled  up,  and  it  was  nec- 
essary to  continue  the  defence  at  short  range. 
And  so  we  wore  through  the  thirteenth,  pro- 
tecting the  works  as  we  rebuilt  them,  suffering 
much,  and  seeing  ourselves  constantly  decreas- 
ing in  numbers,  although  new  men  came  to 
take  the  places  of  the  many  that  we  lost.  On 
the  fourteenth  the  enemy's  artillery  tried  to 
demolish  our  new  walls,  opening  breaches  for 
us  on  the  front  and  at  the  sides.  They  did 
not  dare  to  try  a  new  assault,  contenting  them- 
selves with  opening  a  mine  in  such  a  direction 
that  we  could  not  in  any  way  cover  it  with  our 
fire,  nor  with  that  of  any  battery  near  by. 

Our  valorous   tantalizing  earthworks  would 
soon   be  covered  by   the   fires  of  the  French 

batteries,    which    were    hurling    to    the    four 

103 


Saragossa 

winds  the  earth  of  which  they  were  formed.  In 
this  situation,  surrender  was  inevitable  sooner 
or  later.  Indeed  we  were  at  the  mercy  of  the 
French  arms  as  a  ship  at  the  mercy  of  the 
waves  of  the  ocean.  Flanked  by  roads  and 
zig-zags,  through  which  a  strong  and  clever 
enemy  might  walk  without  danger,  protected 
by  all  the  resources  of  science,  our  bulwarks 
of  defence  were  like  one  man  surrounded  by  an 
army.  We  had  no  serviceable  cannons,  nor 
could  we  bring  other  new  ones,  because  the 
walls  would  not  have  borne  them.  Our  only 
resource  was  to  keep  watch  of  the  redoubt  in 
order  to  fly  from  it  at  the  moment  when  the 
French  should  enter  and  destroy  the  bridge,  in 
order  to  prevent  them  from  following  us. 
This  was  done ;  and  on  the  night  of  the  four- 
teenth they  worked  without  rest  on  the  mine, 
and  we  placed  small  mines  at  the  bridge,  hoping 
that  the  following  day  the  enemy  would  try  to 
mount  by  that  wall.  But  this  did  not  happen. 
Not  daring  to  make  another  assault  without  all 
the  precautions  and  security  possible,  they  con- 
tinued their  work  of  digging  very  nearly  up  to 
our  fosse.  In  this  labor  our  indefatigable  fusi- 
leers  did  them  little  damage.  We  were  des- 
perate, but  without  power  to  do  anything. 
Our    desperation  was    of  no    avail ;    it  was    a 

104 


Saragossa 

useless  force,  like  the  rage  of  a  lunatic  in  his 
cage. 

We  drew  out  the  nails  from  the  tablet  which 
proclaimed  ours  to  be  the  unconquerable  re- 
doubt, in  order  to  take  away  with  us  that  witness 
of  our  justifiable  arrogance.  At  nightfall  the 
fortification  was  abandoned,  only  forty  remain- 
ing to  keep  it  until  the  end,  and  shoot  all  they 
could,  as  our  captain  said  that  no  chance  might 
be  lost  to  lose  the  enemy  a  couple  of  men. 
From  the  Torre  del  Pino  we  saw  the  retreat 
of  the  forty  at  about  eight  o'clock  in  the 
evening,  after  they  had  met  the  invaders 
with  bayonet-thrusts ;  they  retreated  fighting 
bravely. 

The  interior  mine  of  the  redoubt  had  had 
little  effect,  but  the  small  mines  of  the  bridge 
acquitted  themselves  so  well  that  the  passage 
was  destroyed  and  the  redoubt  isolated  from 
the  other  bank  of  the  Huerva.  Gaining  this 
position  and  San  Jose,  the  French  would  have 
enough  protection  to  open  their  third  parallel 
and  to  demolish  at  their  leisure  the  whole  cir- 
cuit of  the  city.  We  were  saddened  and  just  \ 
a  little  discouraged ;  but  of  what  importance  is 
a  little  depression  when  on  the  day  following 
one  has  a  diversion  and  a  feast  ?  After  being 
madly    discouraged,    a    little  jollity   does    not       \ 

I  OS 


Saragossa 

come  amiss,  especially  when  time  is  wanting 
to  bury  the  dead ;  nor  was  there  room  in  the 
houses  for  the  many  who  were  wounded.  It 
is  true  that  there  were  hands  for  all  that  had 
to  be  done,  thanks  be  to  God. 

The  reason  for  the  general  rejoicing  was  that 
glorious  rumors  were  in  circulation  of  Spanish 
armies  that  were  coming  to  succor  us,  on  the 
heels  of  the  French,  in  many  parts  of  the 
Peninsula.  The  people  crowded  into  the  Plaza 
de  la  Seo,  and  in  front  of  the  Magdalene  arch, 
waiting  until  the  "Gazette"  should  appear;  and 
at  last  it  came  out,  cheering  everybody's  spirits, 
and  making  all  hearts  palpitate  with  hope.  I 
do  not  know  if  such  rumors  had  really  reached 
Saragossa,  or  if  they  originated  in  the  wits  of 
the  chief  editor,  Don  Ignacio  Assor.  It  is 
certain  that  they  told  us  in  print  that  Reading 
was  coming  to  succor  us  with  an  army  of  sixty 
thousand  men,  that  the  Marquis  of  Lazan,  after 
routing  the  mob  in  the  north  of  Catalonia,  had 
entered  France,  spreading  terror  in  every  di- 
rection, and  that  also  the  Duke  del  Infantado 
was  coming  to  our  aid,  who  with  Blake  and  la 
Romana  had  routed  Napoleon,  slaying  twenty 
thousand  men,  including  Berthier,  Ney,  and 
Savary,  and  that  at  Cadiz  had  arrived  several 
millions  in  hard  cash  sent  by  the  English  for 

1 06 


Saragossa 

the  expense  of  war.     What  did  it  all  mean  ? 
Could  the  "Gazette"   explain  all  this? 

In  spite  of  the  size  of  these  mouthfuls  of 
rumor,  we  swallowed  them ;  and  there  were 
demonstrations  of  joy,  ringing  of  church  bells, 
running  through  the  streets,  and  singing  the 
music  of  the  jota,  with  many  other  patriotic 
excesses,  which  at  least  had  the  advantage  of 
affording  us  a  little  of  that  cooling  off  of  our 
mental  temperature  which  was  necessary.  Do 
not  believe  that  in  consideration  of  our  joy  the 
rain  of  bombs  had  ceased !  Very  far  from 
that !  They  seemed  to  jeer  at  the  news  of  our 
"  Gazette,"  as  they  repeated  their  dose.  Feel- 
ing a  lively  desire  to  laugh  at  them  to  their 
faces,  we  went  to  the  walls.  The  musicians  of 
the  regiments  played  in  a  tantalizing  fashion, 
and  we  all  sang  in  an  immense  chorus  the 
famous  words,  — 

**The  Virgin  del  Pilar  says 

She  wouldn't  like  to  be  a  Frenchwoman  !  " 

They  were  in  a  mood  for  answering  jests, 
and  in  less  than  two  hours  a  greater  number 
of  projectiles  were  sent  into  the  city  than  dur- 
ing all  the  rest  of  the  day.  There  was  now 
no  longer  a  secure  refuge ;  there  was  not  a 
hand's  breadth  of  ground  or  of  roof  free  from 

107 


Saragossa 

that  Satanic  fire.  Families  fled  from  their 
homes,  or  took  refuge  in  the  cellars.  The 
wounded,  who  were  numerous  in  the  principal 
houses,  were  carried  to  the  churches,  seeking 
shelter  in  their  strong  vaults.  Others  went 
dragging  themselves  along.  Some  more  active 
ones  carried  their  bedding  upon  their  shoulders. 
Most  of  them  were  accommodated  in  the  Pilar  ; 
and  after  the  floor  was  all  filled,  they  were 
stretched  out  upon  the  altars  and  crowded  into 
the  chapels.  In  spite  of  their  misfortunes, 
they  were  consoled  by  looking  at  the  Virgin, 
who  seemed  to  say  to  them  unceasingly  with 
her  brilliant  eyes  that  she  would  not  care  to  be 
a  Frenchwoman  ! 


io8 


CHAPTER  XII 

MY  battalion  did  not  take  part  in  the 
sorties  of  the  days  of  the  twenty-second 
and  twenty-fourth,  nor  in  the  defence  of  the 
Molino  and  the  positions  situated  at  the  back 
of  San  Jose,  made  glorious  by  the  destruction 
of  many  of  our  troops,  where  they  had  made  the 
French  feel  the  strength  of  their  hand.  It  was 
not  because  they  had  not  been  careful  to  take 
precautions,  for  indeed  from  the  mouth  of 
Huerva  to  the  Carmen  gate  they  stationed 
fifty  cannon,  most  of  them  of  heavy  calibre, 
directing  them  with  great  skill  against  our 
weakest  points.  In  spite  of  all  this,  we  laughed, 
or  pretended  to  laugh,  at  them,  as  in  the 
vain-glorious  response  of  Palafox  to  Marshal 
Lannes  (who  had  placed  himself  since  the 
twenty-second  at  the  head  of  the  besieging 
army),  in  which  he  said  to  him,  "  The  conquest 
of  this  city  will  be  a  great  honor  to  Monsieur 
the  Marshal  if  he  gains  it  in  open  fight,  and 
not  with  bombs  and  grenades,  which  only 
terrify  cowards." 

109 


Saragossa 

Of  course,  after  a  few  days  had  passed,  it  was 
known  that  the  hoped-for  forces  and  the 
powerful  armies  that  were  coming  to  free  us 
were  all  mists  of  our  imaginations,  and  espe- 
cially of  that  of  the  journalist  who  invented 
them.  There  were  no  such  armies  of  any  sort 
roaming  about  to  help  us. 

I  understood  very  soon  that  all  that  which 
was  published  in  the  "  Gazette  "  of  the  sixteenth 
was  a  canard,  and  so  I  said  to  Don  Jose  de 
Montoria  and  his  wife,  who  in  their  optimism 
attributed  my  incredulity  to  a  lack  of  public 
spirit.  I  had  gone  with  Augustine  and  others 
of  my  friends  to  the  Montoria  house  to 
help  them  at  a  task  that  was  wearying  them 
greatly.  A  part  of  their  roof  had  been  de- 
stroyed by  the  bombs,  and  this  threatened  the 
walls  with  destruction  also.  They  were  trying 
to  remedy  this  with  all  possible  speed.  The 
eldest  son  of  Montoria,  wounded  in  battle 
at  the  Molino,  had  been  lodged  with  his 
wife  and  son  in  the  cellar  of  a  house  close 
by,  and  Dona  Leocadia  gave  her  hands  and 
feet  no  rest,  going  and  coming  between  the 
two  houses,  carrying  things  which  were  neces- 
sary. 

"  I  can't  let  anything  be  done  by  others/' 
she    said    to    me ;    "  that  is   my   nature.     Al- 


IIO 


Saragossa 

though  I  have  servants,  I  am  not  content 
unless  I  do  everything  myself.  How  has  my 
son  Augustine  borne  himself?  " 

"  Like  what  he  is,  sefiora,  a  brave  boy,'* 
I  answered ;  "  and  his  talent  for  war  is  so  great 
that  I  should  not  be  surprised  to  see  him  a 
general  in  a  couple  of  years.'* 

"  A  general  ! "  she  exclaimed  in  surprise. 
"  My  son  is  going  to  chant  masses  as  soon  as 
the  siege  is  ended.  Indeed  you  know  we 
have  educated  him  for  that.  God  and  the 
Virgin  del  Pilar  bring  him  in  safety  through 
battle,  that  the  rest  of  his  days  may  go  on  in 
appointed  ways  !  The  fathers  at  the  Seminary 
have  assured  me  that  I  shall  see  my  son  with 
his  mitre  on  his  head  and  his  crosier  in  his 
hand." 

"  It  will  be  so,  senora,  I  do  not  doubt  it. 
But  seeing  how  he  manages  arms,  I  cannot 
bring  myself  to  the  thought  that  with  the  same 
hand  with  which  he  pulls  the  trigger,  he  will 
also  scatter  benedictions." 

"  It  is  true,  Seiior  de  Araceli ;  and  I  have 
always  said  that  the  trigger  is  not  becoming 
to  churchmen.  But  you  see  how  it  is. 
Here  we  have  great  warriors, —  Don  Santiago 
Sas,  Don  Manuel  Lasartesa;  the  incumbent 
of  San    Pablo,    Don    Antonio  La    Casa;    the 

III 


jj^ 


Saragossa 

parish  priest  of  San  Miguel,  Don  Jose  Mar- 
tinez ;  and  also  Don  Vicente  Casanova,  who  is 
famous  as  the  first  theologian  of  Saragossa. 
Indeed  they  all  fight,  my  son  also,  though  I 
suppose  he  will  be  eager  to  return  to  the 
Seminary  and  plunge  into  his  studies.  Would 
you  believe  it  ?  Lately  he  was  studying  books 
so  large  that  they  weighed  two  quintals.  God's 
blessing  be  on  the  boy  !  I  am  quite  foolish 
over  him  when  he  recites  some  grand  things 
all  in  Latin.  I  suppose  they  are  all  about  our 
Lord,  and  his  love  for  his  church,  because 
there  is  a  great  deal  about  amorem  and  formosa 
and  pulcherrimay  inflamavit^  and  other  words 
T^^       like  those." 

"  Exactly,"  I  replied,  imagining  that  his 
recitations  were  from  the  fourth  book  of  a  cer- 
tain ecclesiastical  work  called  the  ^Eneid,  writ- 
ten by  a  certain  Friar  Virgil  of  the  order  of 
Predicadores. 

"  It  must  be  as  I  say,"  said  Dona  Leocadia. 
"  And  now,  Senor  de  Araceli,  let  us  see  if  you 
can  help  me  move  this  table." 

"With  the  greatest  pleasure,  dear  lady.  I 
will  move  it  for  you  myself,"  I  replied,  taking 
charge  of  it  at  the  moment  that  Don  Jose  de 
Montoria  entered,  pouring  out  "  porras  "  and 
"  cuernos  "  from  his  blessed  mouth. 

112 


Saragossa 

"  How  is  this,  porra  !  "  he  cried ;  "  men 
occupied  in  women's  business  ?  It  is  not  for 
moving  tables  and  chairs  that  a  gun  has  been 
placed  in  your  hands  !  And  you,  wife?  How 
can  you  distract  in  this  manner  a  man  needed 
on  the  other  side  ?  You  and  the  children, 
porra  !  can  you  not  move  the  furniture  ? 
Are  you  made  of  paste  or  cheese  ?  Look  ! 
In  the  street  below  is  the  Countess  de 
Bureta  with  a  bed  on  her  shoulders,  and  her 
two  maids  carrying  a  wounded  soldier  on  a 
cot. 

"Very  well,"  said  Dona  Leocadia,  "there 
is  no  need  of  making  such  a  noise  about  it. 
The  men  may  go.  Everybody  out  into  the 
street,  and  leave  us  alone  !  Away  with  you, 
too,  Augustine  my  son,  and  God  preserve 
you  in  the  midst  of  this  inferno." 

"  We  must  carry  twenty  sacks  of  flour  from 
the  Convent  of  Trinitarios  to  the  headquarters 
of  supplies,"  said  Montoria.  "  Come,  let  us 
all  go." 

And  when  we  were  in  the  street,  he  added, 
"  The  numbers  of  people  in  Saragossa  will 
soon  make  half  rations  necessary.  It  is  true, 
my  friends,  that  there  is  much  concealed  pro- 
vision, and  although  it  has  been  ordered  that 

everybody  declare  what  he  has,  many  do  not 
8  113 


Saragossa 

take  any  notice  of  the  order,  and  keep  what 
they  have  to  sell  at  fabulous  prices.  It's  a 
bad  business.  If  I  discover  them,  and  they 
fall  into  my  hands,  I  will  make  them  under- 
stand that  Montoria  is  president  of  the  junta 
of  supplies." 

We  had  reached  the  parish  church  of  San 
Pablo  when  we  were  met  by  a  friar.  Father 
Mateo  del  Busto,  who  was  coming  with  much 
fatigue,  forcing  his  feeble  steps,  and  accom- 
panied by  another  friar  whom  they  called 
Father  Luengo. 

"  What  news  do  your  reverences  bring  us  ? " 
Montoria  asked  them. 

"  Don  Juan  Gallart  has  twenty  pounds  of 
inlaid  work  which  he  places  at  the  disposal 
of  the  committee." 

"And  Don  Pedro  Pizueta,  the  shop-keeper 
of  the  Calle  de  las  Moscas,  generously  offers 
sixty  sacks  of  wool,  and  all  the  salt  and  wool 
of  his  storehouses,"  added  Luengo. 

"  But  we  have  just  been  dealing  with  the 
miser  Candiola,"  said  the  friar ;  "  a  battle 
with  which  not  even  the  Eras  can  compare." 

"  How  is  that  ?  "  asked  Don  Jose,  with 
astonishment.  "  Has  not  that  wretched  nig- 
gard understood  that  we  will  pay  him  for  his 
flour?     He   is   the   only  citizen   of  Saragossa 

114 


Saragossa 

who  has  not  given  a  penny  for  the  provision- 
ing of  the  army." 

"  There  is  no  use  in  preaching  to  Candiola," 
said  Luengo.  "  He  has  said  decisively  that  we 
need  not  return  there  unless  we  bring  him 
one  hundred  and  twenty-four  reales  for  each 
sack  of  flour,  and  he  has  seventy-eight  of 
them   in   his   storehouse." 

"  Is  there  any  infamy  equal  to  his  ! "  ex- 
claimed Montoria,  letting  loose  a  string  of 
porras,  which  I  do  not  copy  for  fear  of 
wearying  my  reader.  "What!  A  hundred 
and  twenty-four  reales  are  necessary  to  make 
that  stingy  piece  of  flint  understand  the  duties 
of  a  son  of  Saragossa  in  times  like  these  !  The 
Captain-General  has  given  me  authority  to 
take  whatever  provisions  are  necessary,  paying 
the  fixed  price  for  them." 

"  Do  you  hear  what  I  tell  you,  Senor  Don 
Jose?"  said  Busto;  "Candiola  says  that  who 
wants  flour  must  pay  for  it.  He  said  that  if 
the  city  is  not  able  to  defend  itself,  it  must 
surrender;  that  he  has  no  obligation  to  give 
anything  for  the  war,  because  he  was  not  the 
one  who  brought  it  on." 

"  Let  us  go  there,"  said  Montoria,  with 
anger,  which  showed  itself  in  his  gestures, 
his    altered  voice,  his    darkened   visage.     "It 


Saragossa 

is  not  the  first  time  that  I  have  had  that  dog, 
that  blood-sucker,  in  my  hands/' 

I  came  behind  with  Augustine,  who  was  pale 
and  downcast.  I  wished  to  speak  with  him, 
but  he  made  signs  to  keep  silence.  We  fol- 
lowed to  see  how  this  would  end.  We  found 
ourselves  quickly  in  the  Calle  de  Anton  Trillo  ; 
and  Montoria  said  to  us,  — 

"  Boys,  go  on  ahead  and  knock  at  the  door 
of  this  insolent  Jew.  Force  it  open,  if  no  one 
opens  it ;  enter,  and  tell  him  to  come  down  to 
see  me.  Take  him  by  the  ear,  but  be  careful 
he  does  not  bite  you,  for  he  is  a  mad  dog  and 
a  venomous  serpent." 

When  we  were  walking  on,  I  looked  again 
at  Augustine,  and  saw  that  he  was  livid  and 
trembling. 

"  Gabriel,"  he  said,  "  I  wish  to  run  away.  I 
wish  that  the  earth  would  open  and  swallow 
me.  My  father  will  kill  me,  but  I  cannot  do 
what  he  has  commanded  me." 

"  Come,  lean  on  me ;  then  act  as  if  you  had 
twisted  your  foot,  and  cannot  go  on." 

This  was  done,  and  our  other  companions 
and  I  began  knocking  at  the  door.  The  old 
woman  showed  herself  at  the  window,  and 
greeted  us  with  a  thousand  insolent  words.  A 
few  minutes  passed,   and  then  we  saw  a  very 

ii6 


Saragossa 

beautiful  hand  raise  the  curtain,  permitting  us 
to  see  for  a  moment  a  face  changed  and  pale, 
whose  great  dark  eyes  cast  terrified  glances 
towards  the  street. 

At  that  moment  my  companions  and  the 
boys  who  were  following  were  crying  in  hoarse 
concert,  — 

"  Come  down,  uncle  Candiola.  Come  down, 
dog  of  a  Caiaphas  !  '* 

Contrary  to  our  expectation,  Candiola 
obeyed ;  but  he  did  it  believing  that  he  had  to 
do  with  the  mob  of  vagabond  boys  who  were 
in  the  habit  of  giving  him  such  serenades,  with 
no  suspicion  that  the  president  of  the  junta  of 
supplies,  and  two  others  in  authority,  were  there 
to  talk  with  him  on  a  matter  of  importance. 
He  soon  had  occasion  to  know  that  this  was  a 
serious  matter,  for  at  the  opening  of  the  door, 
as  he  came  running  out  with  a  cudgel  in  his 
hand,  and  his  ugly  eyes  glowing  with  wrath, 
he  came  face  to  face  with  Montoria,  and  drew 
back  in  alarm.  . 

"Ah,  it  is  you,  Senor  de  Montoria,"  he  said, 
with  very  bad  grace.  "How  is  it  that  you, 
being  a  member  of  the  committee  of  public 
safety,  have  not  been  able  to  disperse  this 
rabble  which  has  come  to  make  this  noise  before 
the  gate  of  the  house  of  an  honorable  citizen?" 

117 


Saragossa 

"  I  am  not  a  member  of  the  committee  of 
public  safety,  but  of  the  junta  of  supplies,  so 
I  come  in  search  of  the  Senor  Candiola,  and 
make  him  come  down  ;  but  I  will  not  enter  this 
dark  house  full  of  cobwebs  and  mice." 

"  The  poor  cannot  live  in  palaces  like  Seiior 
Jose  de  Montoria,  administrator  of  the  goods 
of  the  commune,  and  for  a  long  time  tax-col- 
lector," replied  Candiola. 

"  I  made  my  fortune  by  work,  not  by  usury," 
exclaimed  Montoria.  "  But  let  us  make  an 
end  of  this.  Senor  Don  Jeronimo,  I  have 
come  for  that  flour.  These  two  good  fathers 
have  acquainted  you  with  our  need  of  it 
already." 

"  Yes,  I  will  sell  it,  I  will  sell  it,"  answered 
Candiola,  with  a  crafty  smile  ;  "  but  I  cannot 
part  with  it  at  the  price  which  these  senors 
indicated.  It  is  too  little.  I  do  not  part  with 
it  for  less  than  one  hundred  and  sixty-two 
reales  for  a  sack  of  a  hundred  pounds." 

"  I  do  not  ask  your  price,"  said  Don  Jose, 
restraining  his  indignation. 

"  The  junta  may  dispose  as  it  likes  with  its 
own ;  but  in  my  house  no  one  sells  anything 
but  myself,"  answered  the  miser.  "  And  that 
is  all  there  is  to  say.  Each  one  may  do  in  his 
own  house  as  I  do  in  mine." 

ii8 


Saragossa 

"  Come,  look  here,  you  blood-sucker  !  " 
exclaimed  Montoria,  catching  him  by  the  arm, 
making  him  jump,  "  look  here,  Candiola  of  a 
thousand  devils,  I  have  said  that  I  have  come 
for  the  flour,  and  I  will  not  go  without  it !  The 
army  of  defence  of  Saragossa  must  not  die  of 
hunger,  porra  !  and  all  citizens  must  contribute 
to  maintain  it." 

"  To  maintain  it  !  to  maintain  the  army  ! " 
cried  the  miser,  venomously.  "  Perhaps  I  am 
the   author  of  its  being  ? " 

"  Miserable  pig,  is  there  not  in  your  black 
and  empty  soul  one  spark  of  patriotism  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  maintain  vagabonds.  What  need 
was  there  that  the  French  should  bombard  us 
and  destroy  the  city  ?  You  want  me  to  feed 
the  soldiers.     I  will  give  them  poison.'* 

"  Wretch,  worm,  blood-sucker  of  Saragossa, 
disgrace  of  the  Spanish  people ! "  exclaimed 
my  protector,  threatening  with  his  doubled 
fist  the  miser's  wrinkled  face.  "  I  would  rather 
be  damned  to  hell  forever  than  to  be  what  you 
are,  to  be  Candiola  for  one  minute.  You  black 
conscience,  you  perverse  soul,  are  you  not 
ashamed  of  being  the  only  one  in  this  city  who 
has  refused  all  his  resources  to  the  patriotic 
army  of  his  country  ?  Does  not  everybody's 
hatred  of  you  for  this  vile  conduct  weigh  upon 

119 


Saragossa 

you  more  heavily  than  if  all  the  rocks  of  Mon- 
cayo  had  fallen  upon  you  ?  " 

"  Stop  your  music  and  leave  me  in  peace," 
said  Don  Jeronimo,  starting  to  the  door. 

"  Look  here,  you  unclean  reptile,"  cried 
Montoria,  detaining  him,  "  I  have  told  you 
that  I  am  not  going  without  the  flour.  If  you 
do  not  produce  it  with  good  grace,  as  every 
good  Spaniard  does,  you  shall  be  made  to  give 
it  by  force.  I  will  pay  you  forty-eight  reales 
per  sack,  —  its  price  before  the  siege." 

"  Forty-eight  reales,"  exclaimed  Candiola, 
with  an  expression  of  rancor,  "  I  will  sell  my 
skin  at  that  price  before  the  flour.  I  would 
pay  more  than  that  for  it.  The  accursed  mob  ! 
Shall  they  be  supported  by  me,  Seiior  de 
Montoria  ?  " 

"You  may  thank  them,  miserable  usurer, 
because  they  have  not  put  an  end  to  your  use- 
less life.  Does  not  the  generosity  of  this  peo- 
ple surprise  you  ?  In  the  other  siege,  while 
we  were  enduring  the  greatest  privations  in 
order  to  get  money  together,  your  heart  of 
stone  remained  insensible,  and  they  could  not 
pull  out  of  you  one  old  shirt  to  cover  the 
nakedness  of  a  poor  soldier,  or  one  piece  of 
bread  to  appease  his  hunger.  Saragossa  has 
not  forgotten  your  infamies.     Do  you  not  re- 

I20 


Saragossa 

member  that  after  the  battle  of  the  fourth  of 
August,  when  the  wounded  were  distributed 
throughout  the  city,  and  two  were  assigned  to 
you,  and  rang  at  your  door,  it  was  not  possible 
for  them  to  get  their  shadows  into  this  wretched 
door?  On  the  night  of  the  fourth  they  arrived 
at  your  door,  and  with  their  weak  hands  they 
rang  for  you  to  open  to  them ;  but  their  moans 
and  suffering  did  not  move  your  heart  of  brass. 
You  came  to  the  door,  and  kicked  them  into 
the  street,  saying  that  your  house  was  not  a 
hospital.  Unworthy  son  of  Saragossa !  but 
you  have  not  the  soul  of  a  son  of  Saragossa. 
You  were  born  a  Mallorcan,  of  the  blood  of  a 
Jew  ! " 

The  eyes  of  Candiola  shot  fire.  His  jaw 
quivered,  and  his  fingers  closed  convulsively 
upon  the  cudgel  in  his  right  hand. 

"  Yes,  you  have  the  blood  of  a  Mallorcan 
Jew.  You  are  no  son  of  this  noble  city.  Do 
not  the  moans  of  those  poor  wounded  men 
sound  in  your  bat's  ears  ?  One  of  them,  who 
was  bleeding  badly,  died  on  this  spot  where  we 
are  standing.  The  other  managed  to  creep  to 
the  market,  where  he  told  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. Infamous  scarecrow !  Do  you  sup- 
pose that  the  people  of  Saragossa  are  going  to 
forget  the   morning  of   the    fifth  ?      Candiola, 


121 


Saragossa 

Candlolllla,  give  me  that  flour,  and  we  will 
close  this  transaction  in  peace." 

"  Montoria,  Montorilla,"  repHed  the  other, 
"  niy  ground  and  my  work  will  not  go  to 
fatten  idle  vagabonds.  Ya !  Talk  to  me  of 
charity  and  generosity  and  the  needs  of  the 
poor  soldiers !  I  have  heard  enough  talk 
about  those  wretched  sponges  who  are  fed  at 
the  public  cost.  The  committee  of  supplies 
will  have  no  chance  to  laugh  at  me.  As  if 
we  did  not  understand  all  this  music  about 
'succor  of  the  army.'  Montoria,  Montorilla, 
you  have  a  little  dough  in  your  own  house, 
is  n't  that  true  ?  Good  dough  can  be  found  in 
the  ovens  of  every  patriot,  made  of  the  flour 
given  by  the  foolish  blockheads  that  the  com- 
mittee of  supplies  knows.  Forty-eight  reales  ! 
A  pretty  price !  Then,  in  the  accounts  which 
will  go  to  the  Captain-General  it  will  be  set 
down  as  if  bought  at  sixty  reales,  with  a  snap- 
per of '  The  Virgin  del  Pilar  would  not  like  to 
be  a  Frenchwoman.'  " 

When  he  said  this,  Don  Jose  de  Montoria, 
who  was  already  choking  with  wrath,  lost  his 
stirrups,  as  the  saying  is,  and  powerless  to 
contain  his  indignation,  went  straight  up  to 
Candiola,  apparently  to  slap  his  face;  but  the 
other  had  with   one  strategic   glance   foreseen 

122 


Saragossa 

the  movement,  and  prepared  to  repel  it. 
Quickly  taking  the  offensive,  he  threw  himself 
with  a  catlike  spring  upon  my  protector,  grasp- 
ing his  neck  with  both  hands  and  fastening 
upon  him  with  his  strong  and  bony  fingers,  at 
the  same  time  making  ready  with  his  teeth, 
as  if  he  were  about  to  take  between  them  the 
entire  person  of  his  enemy. 

There  was  a  brief  struggle  in  which  Mon- 
toria  strove  to  free  himself  from  those  feline 
claws  which  had  so  suddenly  made  him  their 
captive ;  but  it  could  be  seen  in  an  instant  that 
the  nervous  strength  of  the  miser  could  not 
hold  against  the  muscular  strength  of  the  Ara- 
gonese  patriot.  He  shook  him  off  violently. 
Candiola  fell  to  the  ground  like  a  dead 
man. 

We  heard  the  cry  of  a  woman  from  an  upper 
window,  and  then  the  snap  of  a  window-shutter 
closing.  In  this  dramatic  moment  I  wheeled 
about  anxiously  towards  Augustine,  but  he  had 
disappeared. 

Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  mad  with  rage, 
kicked  angrily  at  the  prostrate  body,  stam- 
mering thickly  in  his  wrath. 

"You  dirty  pick-pocket,  enriched  with  the 
blood  of  the  poor,  you  dare  to  call  me  a  thief, 
to  call  the  members  of  the  committee  of  sup- 

123 


Saragossa 

plies  thieves !  By  a  thousand  porras  !  I  will 
teach  you  to  respect  honest  people,  and  you 
may  be  thankful  that  I  do  not  tear  out  that 
miserable  tongue  of  yours  and  throw  it  to  the 
dogs." 

All  this  struck  us  fairly  dumb  ;  but  presently 
we  snatched  the  unlucky  Candiola  from  under 
the  feet  of  his  enemy.  His  first  movement 
was  made  as  if  to  jump  upon  him  again,  but 
Montoria  had  gone  into  the  house,  calling  : 

"  Come,  boys,  we  will  go  into  the  storehouse 
and  get  the  flour.  Quickly,  let  us  make  haste, 
quickly  ! " 

The  great  number  of  people  who  had  con- 
gregated in  the  street  prevented  old  Candiola 
from  entering  his  own  house.  The  gamins, 
who  had  come  running  from  all  over  the 
neighborhood,  took  charge  of  him  themselves. 
Some  pulled  him  forward,  others  pushed  him 
backward,  tearing  his  clothing  to  shreds. 
Others,  taking  the  oflFensive  from  afar,  threw 
great  chunks  of  street  mud  at  him.  In  the 
mean  time  a  woman  came  to  meet  those  of  us 
who  had  entered  the  lower  floor  where  the  store- 
rooms were.  At  the  first  glance  I  recognized 
the  beautiful  Mariquilla,  altered  and  trembling, 
wavering  at  every  step,  without  power  to  stand 
erect  or  speak,   paralyzed  with    terror.      Her 

124 


Saragossa 

fear  was  so  great  that  we  all  pitied  her,  even 
Montoria. 

"You  are  the  daughter  of  Seiior  Candiola," 
he  said,  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  handful  of 
money,  and  making  a  brief  reckoning  on  the 
wall  with  a  bit  of  charcoal  which  he  picked  up 
from  the  floor.  "  Sixty-eight  sacks  of  flour 
at  forty-eight  reales  is  three  thousand  two 
hundred  and  sixty-four.  They  are  not  worth 
half  that,  for  they  seem  to  me  decidedly  musty. 
Take  it,  child,  here  is  the  exact  amount." 

Mariquilla  Candiola  made  no  movement 
whatever  towards  taking  the  money,  and  Mon- 
toria put  it  down  upon  a  box,  saying, — 

"  There  it  is  !  " 

Then  the  girl  with  a  brusque  and  energetic 
movement  which  seemed,  as  it  certainly  was, 
the  inspiration  of  her  off^ended  dignity,  took 
the  money,  gold,  silver,  and  copper,  and  threw 
it  as  if  it  were  so  many  stones  into  the  face  of 
Montoria.  The  money  was  scattered  all  over 
the  floor,  and  rolled  out  of  the  door  without 
much  promise  of  any  one's  finding  it  all  in  the 
future.  Immediately  afterwards  the  senorita 
went  without  a  word  into  the  street.  She  be- 
held her  father  jammed  into  the  crowd ;  and 
presently,  aided  by  some  young  men,  unable 
to   see  with  indifference  a  woman  in  distress, 

1 25 


Saragossa 

she  freed  him  from  the  Infamous  captivity  in 
which  the  boys  held  him. 

The  father  and  daughter  entered  by  the 
garden  gate,  as  we  were  beginning  to  remove 
the  flour. 


126 


CHAPTER   XIII 

WHEN  we  had  finished  carrying  out  the 
flour,  I  went  and  looked  for  Augus- 
tine ;  but  I  could  find  him  nowhere,  neither 
in  his  father's  house,  nor  at  the  headquarters 
of  supplies,  nor  in  the  Coso,  nor  in  Santa 
Engracia.  At  nightfall  I  found  him  in  the 
powder  mill  near  San  Juan  de  los  Panetes. 
I  have  forgotten  to  say  that  the  Saragossans  had 
improvised  a  work  shop  where  were  turned  out 
daily  nine  or  ten  quintals  of  powder.  I  saw 
Augustine  helping  the  workmen  put  into  sacks 
and  barrels  the  powder  made  during  the  day. 
He  was  working  with  feverish  activity. 

"  Do  you  see  this  enormous  heap  of 
powder?"  he  said  to  me  when  I  approached 
him.  "  Do  you  see  those  sacks  and  those 
barrels  all  full  of  the  same  material  ?  Well, 
Gabriel,  it  seems  to  me  very  little." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  are  trying  to  say." 

"  I    say   that   if  this   immense    quantity  of 

powder  were  as  big  as  Saragossa  I  should  like 

it  still  better.    Yes,  and  in  such  a  case  I  should 

127 


Saragossa 

like  to  be  the  only  inhabitant  of  this  great 
city.  What  a  pleasure!  Listen,  Gabriel!  If 
it  were  so,  I  would  myself  set  fire  to  it,  and 
fly  into  the  clouds,  torn  to  pieces  in  the  hor- 
rible explosion  like  pieces  of  rock  which  a 
volcano  throws  to  a  distance  of  a  hundred 
leagues.  I  would  be  hurled  to  the  fifth  heaven, 
and  of  my  members,  scattered  everywhere,  there 
would  be  no  memory  !  Death,  Gabriel,  death 
is  what  I  desire!  But  I  desire  a  death  —  I  do 
not  explain  it  to  you.  My  desperation  is  so 
great  that  to  die  of  a  gunshot  or  a  sabre-thrust 
would  not  satisfy  me.  I  long  to  be  rent 
asunder,  and  diffused  through  space  in  a  thou- 
sand burning  particles.  I  pant  to  feel  myself 
in  the  bosom  of  a  flame-bearing  cloud.  My 
spirit  yearns,  if  only  for  an  infinitesimal  instant, 
the  delight  of  seeing  this  wretched  body  re- 
duced to  powder.  Gabriel,  I  am  desperate. 
Do  you  see  this  powder  ?  Imagine  within  my 
breast  all  the  flames  which  this  could  make. 
Did  you  see  her  when  she  went  out  to  get  her 
father?  Did  you  see  her  when  she  threw  the 
money?  I  was  in  a  corner  where  I  could  see 
it  all.  Mariquilla  does  not  know  that  that 
man  who  maltreated  her  father  is  my  own  ! 
Did  you  see  how  the  boys  threw  mud  at  poor 
Candiola  ?     I  realize  that  Candiola  is  a  wretch. 

128 


Saragossa 

But  she,  what  fault  has  she  ?  She  and  I,  what 
fault  have  we  ?  None,  Gabriel.  My  heart  is 
broken,  and  thirsts  for  a  thousand  deaths.  I 
cannot  live.  I  will  run  into  the  place  of  great- 
est danger  and  fling  myself  into  the  fire  of  the 
French.  After  what  I  have  seen  to-day,  I 
and  the  earth  on  which  I  dwell  may  not  be 
together." 

1  drew  him  away  from  the  place,  taking  him 
to  the  walls  ;  and  we  went  to  work  on  the  forti- 
fications which  were  being  made  in  Las  Ten- 
erias,  the  weakest  point  in  the  city  since  the 
destruction  of  San  Jose  and  Santa  Engracia. 
I  have  already  said  that  from  the  mouth  of 
the  Huerva  to  San  Jose  stretched  a  line  of 
fifty  mouths  of  fire.  Against  this  formidable 
line  of  attack  what  avail  was  our  fortified 
circuit  ? 

The  quarter  of  Las  Tenerias  extended  from 
the  eastern  part  of  the  city,  between  the  Huerva 
and  the  old  part  of  the  town,  perfectly  outlined 
yet  by  the  wide  road  which  is  called  the  Coso. 
It  was  at  the  beginning  of  this  century  a  vil- 
lage of  mean  houses,  almost  all  inhabited  by 
laborers  and  artisans,  and  the  religious  houses 
there  had  none  of  the  splendor  of  the  monu- 
ments of  Saragossa.  The  general  plan  of  this 
district  is  approximately  the  segment  of  a  circle 
9  129 


Saragossa 

whose  arc  curves  out  to  the  open  country,  and 
whose  chord  unites  it  to  the  city,  from  the 
Puerta  Quemada  to  the  rise  at  the  Sepulcro. 

From  that  line  to  the  circumference  ran 
several  streets,  some  of  them  broken,  like  the 
Calles  de  la  Diezma,  Barrio  Verde,  de  los 
Clavos,  and  de  Pabostre.  Some  of  these 
were  marked  not  by  rows  of  houses,  but  by 
walls,  and  lacking  sometimes  one  thing  and 
sometimes  another.  The  streets  spread  out 
into  formless  little  squares  or  yards  or  barren 
gardens.  I  describe  badly  because  in  the  days 
I  refer  to  the  heaps  of  ruins  left  by  the  first 
siege  had  been  used  to  mount  batteries  and 
raise  barricades  in  points  where  the  houses  did 
not  offer  a  natural  defence. 

Near  the  fortification  of  the  Ebro  were  some 
remnants  of  an  ancient  wall,  with  various  little 
towers  of  masonry  which  some  persons  sup- 
posed to  be  from  the  hands  of  the  Romans,  and 
others  judged  to  be  the  v/ork  of  the  Moors. 
In  my  time — I  do  not  know  how  it  may 
be  now — these  pieces  of  wall  seemed  to  be 
mortised  into  the  houses,  or  rather  the  houses 
were  mortised  into  them,  appearing  like  props 
and  corners  of  that  ancient  work,  blackened 
but  not  crumbled  by  the  passing  of  so  many 
centuries.     The  new  had  been  built  in  a  con- 

1^0 


Saragossa 

fused  way  upon  the  ruins  of  the  old,  as  the 
Spanish  people  had  developed  and  grown  upon 
the  spoils  of  other  peoples  of  mixed  bloods, 
until  they  became  as  they  are  to-day. 

The  general  aspect  of  the  district  of  Las 
Tenerias  brought  to  the  imagination  pleasant 
fancies  of  all  that  had  taken  place  during 
Moorish  rule,  the  abundance  of  brick,  the 
long  gable  ends,  the  irregular  fronts,  the 
window  lattices  with  shutters,  the  complete 
architectural  anarchy,  making  it  impossible  to 
know  where  one  house  ended  and  another 
began,  or  of  distinguishing  whether  this  had 
two  floors  or  three,  or  if  that  roof  served  to 
support  the  walls  of  that  one  over  there.  The 
streets  at  best  ended  in  yards  with  no  ways  out. 
The  archways,  which  gave  entrance  to  a  little 
square,  reminded  me  that  here  was  a  vista  upon 
another  Spanish  people,  very  different  from 
those  now  here. 

This  amalgamation  of  houses  which  I  have 
described  to  you,  this  suburb  built  up  by 
many  generations  of  laborers  and  peasants  and 
tanners,  according  to  the  caprice  of  each, 
without  order  or  harmony,  had  prepared 
itself  for  the  defence  on  the  twenty-fourth 
and  twenty-fifth  days  of  January,  at  the  time 
when  the  French  began  to  display  their  pomp 

131 


Saragossa 

of  attack  by  placing  forces  on  that  side.  All 
the  families  living  in  the  houses  of  this  suburb 
proceeded  to  build  works  according  to  their 
own  strategic  instincts.  There  were  military 
engineers  in  petticoats  who  demonstrated  a 
profound  knowledge  of  war  by  walling  up 
certain  spaces  and  opening  others  to  the 
light,  and  for  purposes  of  firing.  The  walls 
of  the  eastern  side  were  spiked  along  their 
length.  The  turrets  of  the  wall  of  Caesar 
Augustus,  built  to  resist  arrows  and  sling 
stones,   now   upheld   cannon. 

If  any  one  of  these  pieces  were  turned  upon 
one  of  the  neighboring  roofs,  the  roof  or  the 
entire  house,  whatever  was  there,  would  be 
immediately  blown  to  pieces.  Many  passages 
had  been  obstructed,  and  two  of  the  religious 
edifices  of  the  suburb,  San  Augustine  and 
Las  Monicas,  were  veritable  fortresses.  The 
wall  had  been  rebuilt  and  strengthened ;  the 
batteries  had  been  joined  together,  and  our 
engineers  had  calculated  the  positions  and  the 
reach  of  the  enemy's  guns  very  well,  in  order 
to  accommodate  our  defences  to  them. 

Our  line  had  two  advanced  points,  the  mill 
of  Goicoechea  and  a  house  which,  because  it 
belonged  to  a  certain  Don  Victoriano  Gonzalez, 

has  gone  into  history  by  the  name  of  the  Casa 

132 


(TwV' 


Saragossa 


de  Gonzalez.  This  line,  running  from  the 
Puerta  Quemada,  met  first  the  battery  of  Pal- 
afox,  then  the  Molino,  the  mill,  in  the  city, 
then  the  garden  of  San  Augustine ;  it  con- 
tinued to  the  mill  of  Goicoechea,  situated  a 
Httle  out  of  the  district,  then  to  the  orchard 
of  Las  Monicas,  and  on  to  those  of  San 
Augustine ;  further  up,  a  great  battery  and 
the  house  of  Gonzalez.  This  is  all  that  I 
remember  of  Las  Tenerias.  There  was  over 
there  a  place  called  the  Sepulcro,  because  of 
its  nearness  to  a  church  of  that  name.  More 
than  one  portion  of  the  suburb,  indeed,  de- 
served the  name  of  sepulchre.  I  tell  you  no 
more  in  order  not  to  tire  you  with  these  descrip- 
tive minutiae,  unnecessary  to  one  who  knows 
those  glorious  places,  and  insufficient  for  one 
who  has  been  unable  to  visit  them. 


^>«-A-t 


133 


CHAPTER   XIV 

AUGUSTINE  MONTORIAandlstood 
guard  with  our  battalion  in  the  Molino  } 
until  after  nightfall,  the  hour  when  we  were 
relieved  by  the  Huesca  volunteers ;  then  we 
permitted  ourselves  to  be  all  night  outside  the 
lines.  But  it  must  not  be  believed  that  dur- 
ing these  hours  we  strolled  about  hand  in  hand ; 
for  when  our  military  services  were  over,  there 
were  others  no  less  onerous  in  the  interior  of 
the  city,  where  the  wounded  had  already  been 
carried  to  La  Seo  and  to  the  Pilar,  —  burning 
houses  to  carry  things  out  of,  or  materials  to 
carry  to  the  friars,  the  canons,  and  the  civil 
officials,  who  were  making  cartridges  in  San 
Juan  de  los  Panetes. 

Montoria  and  I  went  there  by  way  of  the 
Calle  de  Pabostre.  I  walked  along  munching 
a  crust  of  bread  with  good  appetite.  My 
companion,  taciturn  and  gloomy,  amused  him- 
self by  throwing  his  to  the  dogs  that  we  met 
as  we  walked  along.  Although  I  exerted  my 
imagination  in  efforts  to  cheer  his  sad  spirit,  he 

134 


Saragossa 

remained  dull  and  insensible  to  it  all,  replying 
but  sadly  to  my  merry  chatter.  As  we  en- 
tered the  Coso,  he  said  to  me, — 

"  It  is  ten  by  the  clock  of  the  Torre  Nueva. 
Do  you  know  —  I  wish  to  go  there  to-night." 

"  To-night  you  will  not  be  able  to  go.  Try 
to  stifle  the  flame  of  love  in  its  ashes,  while  we 
are  threatened  by  those  other  burning  hearts, 
the  flaming  bombs  which  are  coming  to  break 
in  the  houses  and  among  the  people." 

It  was  even  so.  The  bombarding,  which 
had  not  ceased  during  all  the  day,  was  con- 
tinued during  the  night,  though  with  a  little 
less  vigor;  and  from  time  to  time  projectiles 
fell,  augmenting  the  already  large  number  of 
victims  within  the  city. 

"  I  must  go  there  this  night,"  he  said.  "  Did 
not  Mariquilla  see  me  among  all  those  who 
crowded  in  front  of  the  door  of  her  house  ? 
Will  she  not  think  me  one  of  those  who  abused 
her  father  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  so.  That  young  woman 
would  know  how  to  distinguish  between  indi- 
viduals. She  has  already  made  inquiries,  and 
now  is  no  time  for  stolen  sweets.  Do  you  see  ? 
From  that  house  coming  this  way  are  some  poor 
women  in  need  of  help.  Look,  one  of  them 
is   not  able  to  creep  further,  and  falls  to  the 

135 


Saragossa 

ground.  Is  it  not  possible  that  the  Seiiorita 
Dona  Mariquilla  Candiola  has  also  gone  to 
care  for  the  wounded  at  San  Pablo  or  the 
Pilar  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  believe  so." 

"  Or  perhaps  where  they  are  making  cart- 
ridges ?  " 

"1  believe  that  still  less.  She  would  be  in 
her  house,  and  there  is  where  I  wish  to  go, 
Gabriel.  You  may  go  and  see  to  the  carrying 
of  the  wounded,  or  to  the  powder,  or  whatever 
you  please,  but  I  am  going  there  !  " 

As  he  said  this,  Pirli  presented  himself  to  us 
in  his  friar's  habit,  already  torn  and  hanging 
in  a  thousand  fragments,  and  on  his  head  the 
French  engineer's  helmet,  badly  battered,  but 
plated  and  plumed,  and  making  our  hero  look 
less  like  a  soldier  than  a  carnival  figure. 

"  Are  you  coming  to  help  carry  the 
wounded  ?  "  he  asked.  "They  have  just  killed 
two  more  for  us  that  we  are  carrying  to  San 
Pablo.  They  need  men  there  to  open  the 
ditch  where  they  are  burying  our  dead  of  yes- 
terday, but  I  have  worked  enough.  I  am 
going  to  the  house  of  Manuela  Sancho  to  see 
if  I  can  get  a  snatch  of  sleep.  But,  first,  we 
are  going  to  dance  a  little.     Don't  you  want 

to  come  along?  " 

136 


Saragossa 

"  No,  we  are  going  to  San  Pablo,"  I  replied, 
"  to  bury  the  dead.     There  is  enough  to  do." 

"  They  say  that  so  many  dead  make  the  air 
bad,  and  that  is  why  there  are  so  many  ill  of  the 
fever.  That  is  finishing  them  faster  than  their 
wounds,  over  by  the  other  barricade.  I  would 
rather  have  some  '  hot  cakes  '  than  the  epidemic. 
A  '  senora  '  would  n't  scare  me,  but  a  chill  and 
a  fever  would.  So  then  you  are  going  to  bury 
the  dead  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Augustine,  "  let  us  bury  the 
dead." 

"  In  San  Pablo  there  are  no  less  than  forty 
wounded,"  answered  Pirli ;  "  and,  at  the  rate 
we  're  going  there,  we  '11  soon  be  more  dead 
than  living.  Don't  you  want  a  little  diversion  ? 
If  you  are  not  going  to  work  on  the  ditch,  why 
not  come  along  to  the  cartridge  factory  ?  All 
the  girls  will  be  there,  and  from  time  to  time 
they  will  give  us  some  singing,  or  cheer  our 
souls   with   a  little  dancing." 

"  We  have  no  fault  to  find  with  all  that. 
Will   Manuela  Sancho  be  there  too  ?  " 

"  No,  the  girls  there  are  the  young  ladies  of 
Saragossa,  the  seiioritas  who  have  been  called 
into  service  by  the  committee  of  safety.  There 
are  a  great  many  of  them  in  the  hospitals  too. 
They  invite  themselves  for  that  service.     And 

137 


Saragossa 

it  would  be  a  queer  one  who  would  use  her 
eyes  so  little  as  not  to  make  a  match  for  her- 
self, if  not  for  this  year,  then  for  next !  " 

We  heard  the  rushing  sound  of  many  foot- 
steps behind  us,  and,  turning,  we  saw  a  great 
number  of  people,  among  whose  voices  we 
recognized  that  of  Don  Jose  de  Montoria. 
He  was  very  angry  at  seeing  us  there,  and  ex- 
claimed, — - 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  idiots  ?  Three 
strong  hearty  men  standing  here  with  their 
hands  folded,  when  there  is  such  a  lack  of  men 
for  the  work  to  be  done  !  Go  along  with  you  ! 
Clear  out  of  here !  March,  you  little  tin 
soldiers  !  Do  you  see  those  two  posts  there 
on  the  Trenque  knoll  with  beams  crossed  on 
top  from  which  six  ropes  are  hanging?  Do 
you  see  that  gallows  set  up  in  that  place  for 
traitors  ?  Well,  it 's  for  loafers,  too.  Get 
along  to  work,  or  I  '11  show  your  carcasses 
how  to  move  with  my  fists." 

We  followed  him  until  we  came  quite  near 
the  gallows,  where  the  six  ropes  were  swaying 
commandingly  in  the  wind,  ready  to  strangle 
traitors  or  cowards.  Montoria  seized  his  son 
by  the  arm,  and  pointed  to  the  horrible  ap- 
paratus with  an  energetic  gesture,  saying,  — 

"  Here  you  can  see  what  we  have  been  get- 

138 


Saragossa 

ting  ready  this  evening.  Look  !  There 's 
where  those  who  do  not  do  their  duty  will  be 
entertained.  On  with  you  !  I  who  am  old 
never  get  tired,  but  you  young  healthy  men 
act  as  if  you  were  made  of  putty.  The  invin- 
cible men  of  the  first  siege  have  almost  all 
worked  themselves  to  death  ;  and  we  old  men, 
sirs,  are  obliged  to  set  an  example  to  these 
dandies  who  if  they  miss  dining  for  a  week  begin 
to  complain  and  beg  for  broth.  I  would  give 
you  broth  of  powder,  and  soup  of  cannon  balls, 
you  cowards  !  Go,  and  see  that  you  help  to 
bury  the  dead  and  carry  ammunition  to  the 
w^alls." 

"  And  assist  at  the  hell  which  this  damned 
epidemic  is  spreading,"  said  one  of  those  who 
had  accompanied  Montoria. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think  of  this  thing 
which  the  doctors  call  the  epidemic,"  answered 
Don  Jose.  "  I  call  it  fear,  sirs,  pure  fear. 
They  take  a  chill  ;  then  they  have  spasms  and 
a  fever ;  then  they  turn  green,  and  they  die. 
What  is  all  that  but  the  effect  of  fear  ?  Our 
strong  men  all  seem  to  be  gone,  yes,  seiiors. 
Ah,  what  men  those  were  in  the  first  siege  ! 
Now  when  the  soldiers  have  been  firing  and 
been  fired  at  for  a  trifle  of  ten  hours,  they 
begin   to   fall  down  with   fatigue,  and  say  they 

139 


Saragossa 

can  do  no  more.  There  *s  one  man  who  had 
lost  only  a  leg  and  a  half  who  began  screaming 
and  calling  upon  all  the  holy  martyrs,  begging 
that  they  put  him  to  bed.  Nothing  but  cow- 
ardice, pure  cowardice  !  To-day  several  soldiers 
left  Palafox's  battery  who  had  a  good  sound 
arm  apiece  left  to  fight  with.  And  they  began 
to  beg  for  broth  !  They  had  better  drink  their 
own  blood,  which  is  the  best  broth  in  the 
world.  I  say  the  race  of  men  of  courage  is  fin- 
ished and  done  with,  porra  !  a  thousand  porras ! " 

"  To-morrow  the  French  will  attack  Las 
Tenerias,"  said  the  other.  "  If,  as  a  result, 
there  are  many  wounded,  I  don't  see  where  we 
are  going  to  put  them.'' 

"  Wounded  !  "  exclaimed  Montoria.  "  We 
don't  wish  to  see  any  wounded  here.  The 
dead  do  not  hinder  us.  We  can  pile  them  up 
in  a  heap;  but  the  wounded  —  ugh!  Our 
soldiers  are  no  longer  fearless,  and  I  '11  wager 
that  those  who  are  defending  the  best  positions 
will  not  risk  seeing  themselves  decimated;  they 
will  abandon  them  as  soon  as  they  see  a  couple 
of  dozen  French  heads  above  each  rampart. 
What  feebleness!  After  all,  'twill  be  as  God 
wills,  and  as  for  the  wounded  and  sick,  we  will 
take  care  of  them.  Why  not?  Have  you 
taken  many  fowls  to-day  ? " 

140 


Saragossa 

"  Several  dozens,  of  which  more  than  half 
were  given,  and  for  the  rest  we  paid  six  reales 
and  a  half.     A  few  were  not  willing  to  give." 

"All  right.  To  think  that  a  man  like  me 
should  occupy  himself  with  fowls  in  days  like 
these !  What 's  that  you  say  ?  Some  were 
not  willing  to  give  ?  The  Captain-General 
authorized  me  to  impose  fines  upon  those  who 
do  not  contribute  to  the  defence.  We  will 
just  gently  get  the  law  on  those  milksops  and 
traitors.  Hark,  senors  !  A  bomb  fell  then 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Torre  Nueva. 
Did  you  see  it  ?  Did  you  hear  it  ?  What 
a  horrible  explosion  !  I  '11  wager  that  it  is 
Divine  Providence  more  than  the  French 
batteries  that  have  sent  it  against  the  house 
of  that  petrified,  soulless  Jew  who  looks  on 
with  indifference  and  contempt  at  his  neighbors' 
distress.  People  are  running  that  way.  It 
seems  that  the  house  is  on  fire,  or  falling  down. 
No,  don't  you  run,  you  miserable  fellows. 
Let  it  burn,  let  it  fall  to  the  earth  in  a  thousand 
pieces.  It  is  the  house  of  the  miser  Candiola, 
who  would  not  give  one  peseta  to  save  the 
whole  human  race  from  a  new  deluge.  Eh, 
where  are  you  going  ?  You  are  going  to  run 
there  too  ?  No,  come  along.  Follow  me  ! 
We  can  be  of  more  use  elsewhere." 

141 


Saragossa 

We  were  going  in  a  crowd  to  the  Orphanage. 
Augustine,  impelled  no  doubt  by  the  beating 
of  his  heart,  suddenly  started  as;  if  to  direct  his 
steps  towards  the  Plazuela  San  Felipe,  follow- 
ing the  great  crowd  hastening  towards  that 
place.  But  detained  forcibly  by  his  father 
he  continued,  though  with  bad  grace,  in  our 
company.  Something  was  certainly  burning 
near  the  Torre  Nueva,  and  on  the  tower  the 
precious  arabesques  and  bricks  shone  redly, 
because  of  the  nearness  of  the  fire.  That 
graceful  leaning  column  could  be  distinguished, 
crimson  in  the  black  night,  and  at  the  same 
time  from  its  huge  belfry  a  great  lamentation 
fell  upon  the  air. 

We  reached  San  Pablo. 

"  Go  on,  boys,  loungers  !  Help  those  who 
are  opening  the  ditch.  It  must  be  wide  and 
deep.  It  is  a  garment  wherein  they  will  enrobe 
forty  bodies." 

We  began  upon  the  work,  digging  earth 
from  the  ditch  which  was  being  opened  in  the 
court  of  the  church.  Augustine  was  digging 
with  me,  but  at  every  instant  he  turned  his 
eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  Torre  Nueva. 

"  It  is  a  terrible  fire.  It  seems  as  if  it  is 
going  down  a  little,  Gabriel.  I  long  to  throw 
myself  into  this  grave  which  we  are  opening." 

142 


Saragossa 

*^  Don't  be  in  a  hurry/'  I  answered  him. 
"  Perhaps  to-morrow  will  throw  us  into  it 
without  our  asking.  This  is  no  time  for  fool- 
ishness ;  it  is  time  to  work." 

"  Do  you  not  see  ?  I  believe  that  the  fire 
is  extinguished." 

"  Yes,  the  whole  house  has  probably  burned 
down.  Candiola  was  sure  to  be  shut  up  in  his 
cellar  with  his  money,  and  the  fire  could  n't 
reach  him.      Don't  worry." 

"  Gabriel,  I  must  go  there,  if  only  for  a 
moment.  I  wish  to  see  if  the  fire  was  really 
in  his  house.  If  my  father  returns,  tell  him 
that  I  will  be  back  in  a  second." 

The  sudden  appearance  of  Don  Jose  de 
Montoria  prevented  Augustine  making  the 
flight  which  he  had  just  planned,  and  we  two 
continued  digging  in  the  great  sepulchre. 
They  began  to  bring  out  bodies ;  and  the 
sick  and  wounded,  who  were  constantly  being 
brought  from  without,  saw,  as  they  were  taken 
into  the  church,  the  wide  bed  which  we  were 
preparing  for  them.  At  last  the  ditch  was 
sufficiently  deep,  and  we  were  ordered  to  cease 
digging.  The  work  went  on,  and  corpses 
were  brought,  one  by  one,  and  cast  into  the 
great  sepulchre,  while  clergymen  and  pious 
women  upon  their  knees  repeated   the   mourn- 

143 


Saragossa 

ful  words  of  the  service.  There  was  room 
enough  for  all,  and  nothing  remained  to  be  done 
for  them  but  to  cover  them  with  earth.  Don 
Jose  Montoria,  with  head  uncovered,  reciting 
in  a  low  voice  a  paternoster,  threw  the  first 
handful.  Then  our  shovels  and  spades  began 
with  all  speed  to  cover  them.  Our  work 
ended,  we  all  knelt  down,  and  prayed  in  hushed 
tones.  Augustine  Montoria  said  to  me  when 
this  was  done, — 

"  We  will  go  now.  My  father  will  march 
himself  off.  Go  and  tell  him  that  we  are 
going  to  relieve  two  friends  on  duty  who  have 
a  sick  one  in  their  family  and  wish  us  to  see 
him.  Tell  him,  for  God's  sake !  I  have  n't 
the  courage,  then  in  an  instant  we  can  be 
there." 


144 


CHAPTER   XV 

WE  deceived  the  old  man  and  went.  The 
night  was  now  far  advanced,  as  the 
interment  which  I  have  just  described  had 
lasted  more  than  three  hours.  The  light  of 
the  fire  could  no  longer  be  seen.  The  mass 
of  the  tower  was  lost  in  the  darkness  of  night, 
and  its  great  bell  did  not  sound  except  now 
and  then  to  announce  the  coming  of  a  bomb. 
We  arrived  soon  at  the  Plazuela  of  San  Felipe. 
Seeing  the  roof  of  a  house  near  the  church  still 
smoking,  we  knew  that  it  was  this,  and  not  the 
house  of  Candiola,  which  three  hours  before  the 
flames  had  attacked. 

"  God  has  preserved  it !  "  cried  Augustine, 
joyously.  "  If  the  meanness  of  her  father  should 
bring  divine  anger  upon  that  roof,  the  virtues 
and  innocence  of  Mariquilla  would  preserve  it ! 
Let  us  go  there." 

In  the  Plazuela  of  San  Felipe  there  were  a 

few  people,  but  the  Calle  de  Anton  Trillo  was 

deserted.     We  stopped  close  to  the  wall  of  the 

garden   and  listened  attentively.      All  was  in 
10  145 


Saragossa 

such  deep  silence  that  the  house  seemed  aban- 
doned. Could  it  really  be  abandoned  ?  Al- 
though this  quarter  was  one  of  those  least 
damaged  by  the  bombardment,  many  families 
had  left  it,  or  were  living  as  refugees  in  their 
own  cellars. 

"  If  I  go  in,"  said  Augustine  to  me,  "  you 
must  come  in  with  me.  After  the  scene  of  to- 
day, I  am  afraid  that  Don  Jeronimo,  suspicious 
and  cowardly,  like  a  good  miser,  will  be  up  all 
night  and  about  his  garden,  lest  they  return 
and  carry  off  his  whole  place." 

"In  that  case  it  is  better  not  to  go  in,"  I 
answered,  "  because  besides  the  danger  of  fall- 
ing into  the  hands  of  that  old  scoundrel,  there 
would  be  a  great  scandal,  and  all  Saragossa  will 
know  that  the  son  of  Don  Jose  Montoria,  the 
young  man  destined  for  a  bishop's  mitre,  goes 
by  night  to  see  the  daughter  of  the  goodman 
Candiola." 

But  this  and  all  that  I  could  say  to  him  was 
like  preaching  in  the  desert.  Without  listen- 
ing to  reason,  and  insisting  that  I  should  follow 
him,  he  made  the  signal  of  love,  waiting  and 
watching  with  great  anxiety  for  the  reply. 
Some  time  passed,  and  at  last,  after  long  look- 
ing and  looking  again  from  the  pavement  in 
front,  we  saw  a  light  in  a  high  window.     We 

146 


Saragossa 

heard  the  fastening  of  the  gate  drawn  back 
softly,  and  it  was  opened  without  creaking. 
Love  had  taken  precautions,  and  the  ancient 
hinges  had  been  oiled.  We  two  entered  meet- 
ing, unexpectedly,  not  a  perfumed  and  fas- 
cinating damsel,  but  a  vinegary  countenance 
which  I  recognized  at  once  as  that  of  Dona 
Guedita. 

"  He  lets  hours  pass  before  he  comes,  and 
then  he  comes  with  another,"  she  grumbled. 
"  Young  men,  be  so  kind  as  to  make  no  noise. 
Walk  on  tip-toe,  and  be  careful  not  to  stumble 
over  even  a  dried  leaf,  because  Seiior  Candiola 
seems  to  me  to  be  very  wide  awake." 

This  she  said  to  us  in  a  voice  so  low  that  we 
heard  with  difficulty ;  then  she  went  on  before, 
making  signs  that  we  should  follow  her,  putting 
her  finger  to  her  lips  to  enjoin  absolute  silence. 
The  garden  was  small.  We  soon  crossed  it, 
and  came  to  the  stone  staircase  which  led  up 
to  the  doorway  of  the  house.  Here  there 
came  to  meet  us  a  shapely  figure  wrapped  in  a 
mantle,  or  cloak.  It  was  Mariquilla !  Her 
first  gesture  was  to  impose  silence,  indicating 
with  anxiety,  as  I  saw,  a  window  which  opened 
upon  the  garden.  She  then  showed  surprise 
that  Augustine  had  not  come  unaccompanied. 
But  he  knew  how  to  soothe  her,  saying,  "  It  is 

147 


Saragossa 

Gabriel,  my  best,  my  only  friend,  of  whom  I 
have  spoken  so  many  times." 

"  Speak  lower,"  whispered  Mariquilla  ;  "  my 
father  went  out  of  his  room  a  little  while  ago 
with  a  lantern,  and  made  the  rounds  of  the 
house  and  the  garden.  I  doubt  if  he  is  asleep 
yet?  The  night  is  dark.  Let  us  hide  in  the 
shadow  of  the  cypress,  and  talk  in  a  very  low 
voice." 

The  stone  stairway  led  up  to  a  kind  of  bal- 
cony with  a  wooden  railing.  The  great  cypress 
in  the  garden  cast  a  deep  shadow  at  the 
end  of  the  balcony,  forming  there  a  refuge 
against  the  clear  light  of  the  moon.  The  bare 
boughs  of  an  elm  spread  above  the  other  end 
of  the  balcony,  casting  a  thousand  fantastic 
shadows  upon  the  floor,  upon  the  walls  of 
the  house,  and  upon  ourselves.  In  the  pro- 
tection of  the  cypress,  Mariquilla  seated  her- 
self upon  the  only  seat  that  was  there,  and 
Montoria  threw  himself  upon  the  floor  beside 
her,  resting  his  hands  upon  her  knees.  I 
seated  myself  also  upon  the  floor  not  far  from 
the  pair.  It  was  a  January  night,  still,  dry, 
and  cold.  Perhaps  the  two  lovers  with  hearts 
aflame  did  not  feel  the  low  temperature  ;  but  I, 
a  creature  stranger  to  their  fires,  wrapped  my- 
self in  my  cloak  to  keep  myself  from  the  chill 

148 


Saragossa 

of  the  tiles.  Guedita  had  disappeared.  Mari- 
quilla  led  the  conversation,  plunging  at  once 
into  the  difficulty. 

"  I  saw  you  in  the  street  this  morning. 
When  Guedita  and  I  heard  the  noise  of  the 
people  crowding  about  our  gate,  I  went  to  the 
window,  and  I  saw  you  on  the  sidewalk  in 
front.'* 

"  It  is  true,  I  was  there,"  replied  Montoria, 
with  emotion,  "  but  I  was  obliged  to  go  at  once. 
I  could  n't  stand  it." 

"  Did  n't  you  see  how  those  barbarians  were 
trampling  my  father  underfoot  ?  When  that 
cruel  man  struck  him,  I  looked  everywhere, 
hoping  that  you  would  come  forward  in  his 
defence.      But  I  did  not  see  you  anywhere." 

"  I  tell  you,  Mariquilla  of  my  heart,"  said 
Augustine,  "  that  I  was  obliged  to  go.  After 
they  told  me  that  your  father  had  been  so  ill- 
treated,  I  came  as  soon  as  I  could  get  a 
chance." 

"  A  pretty  time  to  come  !  Among  so  many, 
so  many  people,"  said  Mariquilla,  weeping, 
"  not  one  lifted  a  hand  to  help  him.  I  nearly 
died  of  fright,  seeing  him  in  such  danger.  I 
looked  anxiously  into  the  street,  and  there  was 
no  one  but  enemies,  no  one ;  not  one  kind 
hand  or  voice  among  all  those  men  !      One  of 

149 


Saragossa 

them,  more  cruel  than  all,  knocked  my  father 
down.  Oh,  oh,  remembering  this,  I  scarcely 
know  what  happened  next !  When  I  saw  it, 
my  fright  paralyzed  me  for  a  few  moments. 
Until  then  I  never  knew  what  violent  anger 
was,  how  a  sudden  impulse,  an  inward  fire, 
could  drive  me  on.  I  came  to  him.  My  poor 
father  was  lying  on  the  ground,  and  the  wretch 
was  trampling  upon  him  as  if  he  were  a  venom- 
ous reptile.  When  I  saw  that,  I  felt  my  blood 
boil  in  my  veins.  As  I  have  told  you,  I  ran 
about  the  house,  looking  for  a  weapon,  a  knife, 
an  axe,  anything.  When  I  heard  the  cries  of 
my  father,  I  flew  down.  Finding  myself  among 
so  many  men,  I  felt  a  strange,  uncontrollable 
timidity,  and  could  not  stir  a  step.  The  same 
man  who  had  kicked  him  handed  me  a  fistful 
of  gold.  I  did  not  want  to  take  it,  but  I  did; 
then  I  threw  all  the  coins  into  his  face,  with 
all  my  strength.  My  hand  was  as  if  filled 
with  thunderbolts,  and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  aveng- 
ing my  father,  hurling  them  at  that  villain.  I 
went  out  afterwards,  looking  everywhere  for 
you ;  but  I  could  not  see  you.  I  found  my 
father  alone  in  that  inhuman  crowd,  down  in 
the  mud,  begging  for  mercy." 

"  Oh,  Mariquilla,  Mariquilla  of  my  heart !  " 
cried  Augustine  in  anguish,  kissing  the  hands 

150 


Saragossa 

of  the  unhappy  daughter  of  the  miser.  "Don't 
talk  any  more  about  all  that.  You  tear  my  soul 
in  two  !  I  could  not  defend  him.  I  —  I  had 
to  go.  I  believed  the  crowd  was  after  some- 
thing —  else.  You  are  right.  But  let  us  talk 
no  more  of  this  which  grieves  me  so,  and  gives 
me  such  bitter  pain." 

"  If  you  had  come  to  the  defence  of  my 
father,  he  would  have  felt  gratitude  towards 
you.  From  gratitude  one  passes  readily  to 
affection.  You  would  have  been  received 
openly    in   the   house." 

"  Your  father   is    incapable   of  affection   for 

L 

any  one,"  replied  Montoria.  "  Do  not  hope 
that  we  can  accomplish  anything  in  that  way. 
Let  us  trust  that  we  may  arrive  at  the  fulfil- 
ment of  our  desires  by  hidden  ways,  perhaps  by 
the  help  of  God  when  it  least  seems  likely.  Let 
us  not  depend  upon  aught  else,  or  think  of 
what  is  before  us.  We  are  surrounded  by 
dangers  and  obstacles  that  seem  unsurmount- 
able.  Let  us  hope  for  help  from  the  unseen, 
and  filled  by  faith  in  God  and  the  power  of 
our  love,  let  us  wait  for  the  miracle  which  will 
unite  us.  For  it  will  be  a  miracle,  Mariquilla, 
a  wonder  like  those  they  tell  of  in  olden  times, 
that  we  refuse  to  believe." 

"  A  miracle  !  "   exclaimed   Mariquilla,  sadly. 

151 


Saragossa 

"  It  is  true.  You  are  a  young  gentleman  of 
position,  the  son  of  parents  who  would  never 
consent  to  see  you  married  to  the  daughter  of 
Senor  Candiola.  My  father  is  abhorred  all 
over  the  city.  Everybody  flees  from  us.  No 
one  visits  us.  If  I  go  out  they  point  at  me, 
and  look  at  me  with  insolent  contempt.  Girls 
of  my  own  age  will  not  associate  with  me,  and 
the  young  men  of  the  city  who  go  about 
singing  serenades  under  the  windows  of  their 
sweethearts,  come  to  mine  to  utter  insults 
against  my  father,  calling  me  also  dreadful  names 
to  my  face.  Oh,  my  God,  I  understand  that 
it  would  be  indeed  a  miracle  for  me  to  be 
happy  !  Augustine,  we  have  known  each  other 
now  for  nearly  four  months,  and  you  have  not 
yet  told  me  the  name  of  your  parents.  It 
certainly  cannot  be  as  odious  as  mine.  Why- 
do  you  hide  it  ?  If  it  were  necessary  that  our 
love  should  be  made  public,  you  would  not 
dare  meet  the  looks  of  your  friends,  you  would 
flee  with  horror  from  the  daughter  of  Candiola." 
"  Oh,  no,  don't  say  that !  "  cried  Augustine, 
pressing  against  Mariquilla,  and  hiding  his  face 
in  her  lap.  "  Don't  say  that  I  am  ashamed 
of  loving  you.  In  saying  that  you  insult  God. 
It  is  not  true.  To-day  our  love  remains  a 
secret,  because  it  is  necessary  that  it  should  be 

152 


Saragossa 

so.  But  when  it  is  necessary  to  make  it  known, 
I  will  make  it  known,  and  defy  the  anger  of 
my  father  face  to  face.  Yes,  Mariquilla,  my 
parents  will  curse  me,  and  turn  me  out  of 
doors.  A  few  nights  ago  you  said  to  me, 
looking  at  that  monument  which  we  can  see 
from  here,  *  When  that  tower  becomes  straight, 
I  will  leave  off  loving  you.'  I  swear  to  you 
that  the  strength  of  my  love  is  more  immov- 
able than  the  equilibrium  of  yonder  tower; 
for  that  could  fall  to  the  ground,  but  could 
never  stand  upright.  The  works  of  man  are 
variable,  those  of  Nature  are  unchangeable 
and  rest  evermore  upon  an  everlasting  base. 
You  have  seen  the  Moncayo,  that  great  rock 
which  is  near  Poniente  in  the  suburb  ?  Well, 
when  Moncayo  gets  tired  of  being  in  that 
place,  and  moves  and  comes  walking  towards 
Saragossa,  putting  one  of  its  feet  upon  our  city 
and  reducing  it  to  powder,  then  and  then  only 
will  I  cease  to  love  you." 

By  this  sort  of  hyperbole  and  poetic  natu- 
ralism my  friend  expressed  his  great  love, 
flattering  the  imagination  of  the  beautiful  girl, 
who  responded,  leaning  forward,  moved  by  an 
impulse  like  his  own.  They  were  both  silent 
for  a  moment,  then  the  two,  or  rather  the 
three  of  us,  exclaimed  all  together,  looking  at 

153 


Saragossa 

the  tower  whose  belfry  had  flung  to  the  winds 
two  signals  of  alarm.  At  the  same  moment 
a  globe  of  iire  ploughed  the  black  space, 
describing  rapid  circles. 

"  A  bomb  !  It  is  a  bomb,"  exclaimed  Mari- 
quilla,  trembling,  and  throwing  herself  into  the 
arms  of  her  lover.  The  dreadful  light  passed 
swiftly  over  our  heads,  over  the  garden  and 
the  house,  illuminating  on  its  way  the  tower, 
the  neighboring  houses,  and  the  nook  where 
we  were  hidden.  Then  the  report  was  heard. 
The  bell  began  to  ring  violently,  and  was 
joined  by  others  near  and  far,  loud,  heavy, 
sharp,  jangled  ;  and  we  heard  the  noise  of  feet 
and  voices  of  people  in  the  nearest  streets. 

"  That  bomb  will  not  kill  us,"  said  Augus- 
tine, soothing  his  sweetheart.  "  Are  you 
afraid? " 

"  Yes,  very,  very  much  afraid,"  she  an- 
swered. "  I  spend  the  nights  praying,  asking 
God  to  keep  the  fire  away  from  our  house. 
Until  now  no  misfortune  has  come  near  us, 
either  now  or  in  the  other  siege.  But  how 
many  unhappy  ones  have  perished,  how  many 
houses  of  good  people  who  never  harmed  any 
one  have  been  destroyed  by  the  flames!  I 
long  earnestly  to  go  like  other  women  and 
take  care  of  the  suffering;   but  my  father  for- 

^54 


Sarao;ossa 

bids    me,  and  is    angry  with   me  whenever  I 
propose  it." 

As  she  said  this,  we  heard  within  the  house 
a  distant  sound  of  talking,  in  which  the  harsh 
tones  of  Candiola  were  mingled  with  the  voice 
of  Guedita.  We  three,  obeying  one  impulse, 
drew  into  the  shadow  and  held  our  breaths, 
fearing  to  be  surprised.  Then  we  heard  the 
voice  of  the  miser  coming  nearer,  and  saying,  — 

"  What  are  you  doing  up  at  this  hour, 
Senora  Guedita  ?  " 

"  Senor,"  answered  the  old  woman,  showing 
herself  at  a  window  which  opened  upon  the 
balcony,  "  who  can  sleep  during  this  dreadful 
bombardment  ?  Perhaps  a  bomb  may  come 
and  meddle  with  us  here.  What  if  the  house 
should  take  fire,  and  the  neighbors  should  come 
to  drag  out  the  furniture  and  put  out  the  fire, 
and  find  us  in  our  night-clothes  ?  Oh,  what 
a  lack  of  modesty  !  I  do  not  intend  to  undress 
myself  while  this  devilish  bombardment  lasts." 

"  Is  my  daughter  asleep  ?  "  asked  Candiola, 
appearing  at  another  garden  window. 

"  She  is  upstairs  sleeping  like  a  kitten," 
replied  the  duenna.  "  They  speak  truly  when 
they  say  that  there  are  no  dangers  for  inno- 
cence. A  bomb  does  not  frighten  the  child 
any  more  than  a  sky-rocket." 

155 


Saragossa 

"  I  wonder  if  I  can  see  from  here  where  the 
projectile  has  fallen/*  said  Candiola,  stretching 
his  body  out  of  the  window,  in  order  to  be 
able  to  extend  his  range  of  vision.  "  I  can 
see  the  light  of  a  fire,  but  I  cannot  say  whether 
it  is  near  or  far." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  anything  about  bombs,'* 
said  Guedita,  who  had  come  out  on  the  bal- 
cony. "  This  one  has  fallen  over  there  by 
the  market." 

"  So  it  seems.  If  only  all  would  fall  upon 
the  houses  of  those  who  persist  in  keeping  up 
the  defence  and  causing  the  destruction  !  If 
I  am  not  deceived,  Senora  Guedita,  the  fire  is 
near  the  Calle  de  la  Triperia.  Are  not  the 
storehouses  of  the  junta  of  supplies  over 
there  ?  Oh,  blessed  bomb,  why  not  fall  into 
the  Calle  de  la  Hilarza,  upon  the  house  of 
that  cursed,  most  miserable  thief!  Senora 
Guedita,  I  am  going  to  the  Calle  de  la 
Hilarza,  to  see  if  it  has  fallen  on  the 
house  of  that  proud,  meddlesome,  cowardly 
thief,  Don  Jose  de  Montoria.  I  have  prayed 
for  it  to-night  to  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  with  so 
much  fervor,  and  also  at  the  Santas  Masas 
and  at  Santo  Dominguito  del  Val,  that  at 
last   I    believe    I    have   been   heard." 

"  Senor     Don     Jeronimo,"     said     the     old 

X56 


Saragossa 

woman,  "  do  not  go  out !  The  cold  of  the 
night  is  bad  for  you,  and  it  is  not  worth 
risking  your  lungs  to  see  where  the  bomb 
has  fallen.  It  is  enough  that  it  has  not 
meddled  with  this  house.  If  that  one  which 
passed  did  not  fall  into  the  house  of  that 
barbarian  of  an  official,  another  will  fall  to- 
morrow. The  French  have  a  good  handful. 
Now,  your  honor,  go  to  rest.  I  will  stay  up 
and  look  after  the  house." 

Candiola  changed  his  mind  about  going  out, 
it  seemed,  in  accordance  with  the  good  coun- 
sels of  his  servant,  and,  shutting  the  window, 
he  was  heard  no  more  during  all  the  rest  of 
the  night.  But  although  he  disappeared,  the 
lovers  did  not  break  the  silence,  fearful  of 
being  overheard.  And  not  until  the  old 
woman  came  to  tell  us  that  the  senor  was 
snoring  like  a  peasant  was  the  interrupted 
dialogue   continued. 

"  My  father  wished  that  the  bombs  would 
fall  upon  the  house  of  his  enemy,"  said  Mari- 
quilla.  "  I  should  not  like  to  see  them  fall 
anywhere ;  but  if  at  any  time  one  could  wish 
ill-fortune  to  a  neighbor,  it  would  be  now,  do 
you  not  think  so  ?  " 

Augustine  made  no  answer. 

"You  went  away.     You   did   not  see  how 

157 


Saragossa 

that  man,  the  most  cruel,  the  most  cowardly 
of  all  who  came,  knocked  him  down  in  his 
blind  fury,  and  trampled  upon  him.  The 
fiends  will  kick  his  soul  in  hell  like  that, 
won't  they  ?  " 

''Yes,"  replied  the  young  man,  laconically. 

"  To-day,  after  it  all,  Guedita  and  I  dressed 
the  wounds  of  my  father.  He  was  stretched 
upon  his  bed,  crazy,  desperate.  He  was  twist- 
ing about,  gnawing  his  fists  and  lamenting  that 
he  was  not  stronger  than  his  enemy.  We 
tried  to  console  him,  but  he  told  us  to  be 
silent.  He  struck  me  in  the  face,  he  was 
so  angry  when  he  heard  that  I  had  thrown 
away  the  money  for  the  flour.  He  was  furi- 
ous with  me.  He  told  me  that  since  he 
could  not  get  any  more,  the  three  thousand 
reales  on  account  should  not  be  despised.  He 
said  that  I  am  a  spendthrift,  and  am  ruining 
him.  We  could  not  calm  him  in  any  way. 
Towards  nightfall  we  heard  another  noise  in 
the  street,  and  were  afraid  that  the  same  ones 
who  were  here  in  the  middle  of  the  day  were 
returning.  My  father  was  raging,  and  deter- 
mined to  get  up.  I  was  greatly  frightened ; 
but  I  took  courage,  realizing  that  courage  was 
necessary.  Thinking  of  you,  I  said,  '  If  he 
were  in  the   house,  no  one  would  dare  insult 

158 


Saragossa 

us.'  As  the  noise  in  the  street  increased,  I 
plucked  up  all  my  courage.  I  shut  and  fast- 
ened the  doors  and  gates,  and,  begging  my 
father  to  keep  quiet  in  his  bed,  I  waited, 
resolved.  While  Guedita  was  on  her  knees, 
praying  to  all  the  saints  in  heaven,  I  searched 
the  house  for  a  weapon.  At  last  I  found  a 
big  knife.  The  sight  of  it  has  always  fright- 
ened me,  but  to-day  I  clutched  it  fearlessly. 
Oh,  I  was  beside  myself!  Now  the  very 
thought  of  it  makes  me  frightened.  I  am 
usually  unable  to  look  upon  a  wounded  man, 
and  tremble  at  the  sight  of  a  drop  of  blood. 
I  almost  cry  if  I  see  any  one  beat  a  dog  before 
me.  I  have  never  had  the  force  to  kill  a  mos- 
quito. But  this  evening,  Augustine,  this  even- 
ing, when  I  heard  the  noise  in  the  street,  when 
I  thought  those  blows  upon  the  gate  had  come 
again,  when  I  expected  every  moment  to  see 
those  men  before  me,  I  swear  to  you  that  if 
that  had  happened  which  I  feared,  if  when  I 
w^as  in  my  father's  room,  by  his  bedside,  if 
that  same  man  had  come  who  abused  him  a 
few  hours  before,  I  svv^ear  to  you  that  there 
I  myself  would  have  struck  him  through  the 
heart." 

"  Hush,  for  God's  sake  !  "  cried   Montoria, 
horrified.      "You  frighten  me.      Hearing  you, 

159 


Saragossa 

you  almost  make  me  feel  as  if  your  own  hands, 
these  divine  hands,  struck  cold  steel  through 
my  breast.  Nobody  will  maltreat  your  father 
again.  You  see  already  that  your  alarm  of  to- 
night was  nothing  but  fright.  No,  you  would 
not  have  been  capable  of  what  you  say.  You 
are  a  woman,  and  a  weak  one,  sensitive,  timid, 
incapable  of  killing  a  man,  unless  you  kill  him 
of  love.  The  knife  would  have  fallen  from 
your  hands,  and  you  would  not  have  stained 
their  purity  with  the  blood  of  a  fellow  being. 
These  horrible  things  are  only  for  us  men, 
born  for  conflict ;  sometimes  we  find  ourselves 
in  the  sad  strait  of  wrenching  the  life  from 
other  men.  Mariquilla,  do  not  talk  any  more 
nonsense.  Do  not  think  of  those  who  offended 
you  !  Forgive  them,  and  do  not  kill  any  one, 
even  in  thought.'* 


1 60 


CHAPTER   XVI 

WHILE  they  were  talking,  I  observed 
the  face  of  Mariquilla,  which  seemed 
in  the  darkness  as  if  modelled  of  white  wax, 
and  of  the  soft  tone  and  finish  of  ivory.  From 
her  black  eyes,  whenever  she  raised  them  to  the 
heavens,  swift  lights  flashed  ;  her  black  pupils 
seemed  to  reflect  the  clearness  of  the  sky ;  in 
their  depths  two  points  of  brightness  shone  or 
were  hidden,  according  to  the  changeful  mood 
expressed  in  her  glance.  It  was  curious  to 
observe  the  passionate  creature  telling  of  that 
stormy  crisis  which  had  moved  and  exalted  her 
sensibilities  to  the  heights  of  courage.  Her 
languorous  attitude,  her  dove-like  cooing,  the 
warm  afl'ection  which  radiated  in  her  atmos- 
phere, did  not  associate  themselves  readily 
with  manifestations  of  heroism  in  defence  of 
her  insulted  father.  Attentive  observation 
easily  discovered  that  both  currents  flowed 
from  the  same  source. 

"  I   admire  your  noble  filial  affection,"  said 
Augustine.     "  But  you  must  think  of  this.      I 
II  i6i 


Saragossa 

do  not  exonerate  those  who  maltreated  your 
father.  But  you  must  not  forget  that  he  is 
the  only  one  who  has  not  given  anything  for 
the  war.  Don  Jeronimo  is  an  excellent  person, 
but  he  has  not  an  atom  of  patriotism  in  his 
soul.  The  misfortunes  of  the  city  are  of  no 
consequence  to  him,  and  he  even  seems  to 
rejoice  when  we  do  not  come  out  victorious." 

Mariquilla  sighed,  lifting  her  eyes  to  heaven. 

"  It  is  true,"  she  said  ;  "  every  day  and  every 
hour  I  beseech  him  to  give  something  for  the 
war.  I  am  able  to  get  nothing;  although  I 
exaggerate  the  necessities  of  the  poor  soldiers, 
and  the  bad  record  that  he  is  making  in  Sara- 
gossa. He  only  gets  angry  with  me,  and  says 
that  the  one  who  brought  on  the  war  is  the  one 
to  pay  for  it.  In  the  other  siege  I  was  de- 
lighted at  news  of  a  victory.  The  fourth  of 
August  I  went  out  into  the  street  all  alone, 
unable  to  resist  my  curiosity.  One  night  I 
was  at  the  house  of  the  Urries,  and  they  were 
celebrating  the  battle  of  that  day,  which  had 
been  very  brilliant.  I  also  began  to  rejoice, 
and  show  enthusiasm.  An  old  woman  who 
was  present  said  to  me  in  a  high  voice,  and  a 
very  unpleasant  tone,  '  My  child,  instead  of 
indulging  in  these  emotions,  why  do  you  not 
carry    to   the  hospital  an  old   sheet  to   stanch 

162 


Saragossa 

blood  ?  In  the  house  of  Seiior  Candiola, 
whose  cellars  are  full  of  money,  is  there  not 
some  old  rag  to  give  to  the  wounded  ?  Your 
miserable  papa  is  the  only  one,  the  only  one 
of  all  the  citizens  of  Saragossa  who  has  not 
given  anything  for  the  war.'  Everybody 
laughed  on  hearing  this ;  but  I  was  dumb  with 
shame,  not  daring  to  speak.  I  remained  in  a 
corner  of  the  room  until  the  end  of  the  party, 
and  nobody  spoke  another  word  to  me.  My 
few  girl  friends  who  used  to  love  me  so  much 
did  not  come  near  me.  I  could  hear  people 
speak  from  time  to  time  the  name  of  my  father, 
with  harsh  comments  and  ugly  nicknames. 
Oh,  it  was  heartbreaking !  When  I  started  to 
come  home,  they  hardly  told  me  good-bye. 
The  host  and  hostess  dismissed  me  very 
abruptly.  I  came  home  and  went  to  bed,  and 
cried  all  night.  The  shame  of  it  seemed 
burning  in  my  blood." 

"  Mariquilla,"  cried  Augustine,  lovingly, 
"  your  goodness  is  so  great  that  because  of  it 
God  will  forget   the   cruelties  of  your  father." 

"  A  few  days  afterwards,"  she  went  on,  "  on 
the  fourth  of  August,  those  two  wounded  men 
came  that  my  father's  enemy  spoke  of  this 
morning.  When  we  heard  that  the  commit- 
tee had   assigned  two   wounded    men    to    our 

163 


Saragossa 

house  to  be  taken  care  of,  Guedlta  and  I  were 
delighted,  and,  wild   with   pleasure,   began   to 
prepare   beds,  bandages,  and    lint.     We  were 
waiting    for    them    anxiously,   running  to   the 
window  every  minute  to  see  if  they  were  coming. 
At  last  they  came.     My  father,  who  had  just 
come  in  from  the  street  in  a  very  black  mood, 
complaining  that  many  of  his  debtors  had  been 
killed,  losing  him  all  hope  of  collecting  from 
them,    received    the    wounded    soldiers    very 
badly.     I  embraced  him,  weeping,  and  begged 
him  to  take  them  in ;  but  he  would  not  listen 
to  me  and  in  his  blind  anger,  he  pushed  them 
down  into  the   gutter,  barred  the    door,    and 
went    upstairs,    saying,    '  Let   their    own    par- 
ents   take    care    of    them ! '      It    was     night. 
Guedita  and   I  were  in  perfect  despair.      We 
did  not  know  what  to  do.     We  could  hear  the 
moans    of  those    two    poor    fellows,  dragging 
themselves    along    in    the    street,   begging    for 
help.      My  father  shut  himself  up  in  his  room 
to  make    up  his  accounts,  caring  nothing  for 
them  or  for  us.     We  went  softly,  so  that  he 
would  not  hear  us,  to  the   front  window,  and 
threw    them    cloths    for    bandages  ;    but    they 
could  not  reach   them.     We  spoke  to  them, 
and    they  held    out    their    hands   to  us.     We 
fastened  a  little  basket  to  the  end  of  a  cane,  and 

164 


Saragossa 

passed  them  out  some  food;  but  one  of  them  was 
dying,  and  the  other  suffering  so  much  that  he 
could  not  eat.  We  said  what  we  could  to  en- 
courage them,  and  prayed  to  God  for  them.  At 
last  we  resolved  to  come  down  and  go  out  to  help 
them,  if  only  for  a  moment.  My  father  caught 
us  here  in  the  balcony,  and  was  furious.  That 
night,  what  a  night !  O  Holy  Virgin  !  one  of 
them  died  in  the  street,  and  the  other  one 
dragged  himself  on  to  find  pity  elsewhere." 

Augustine  and  I  were  silent,  reflecting  upon 
the  monstrous  contradictions  of  that  house. 

"  Mariquilla,"  my  friend  said,  presently, 
"  how  proud  I  am  of  loving  you  !  Saragossa 
does  not  know  your  heart  of  gold,  and  it  must 
be  known.  I  wish  to  tell  the  whole  world  that 
I  love  you,  and  prove  to  my  parents  when 
they  know  it  that  I  have  made  a  good  choice." 

"  I  am  like  any  other  girl,"  said  Mariquilla, 
with  humility ;  "  and  your  parents  will  not  see 
in  me  anything  but  the  daughter  of  the  one  whom 
they  call  the  Mallorcan  Jew.  Oh,  the  shame 
kills  me  !  I  wish  I  could  go  av/ay  from  Sara- 
gossa, somewhere  that  I  could  never  again  see 
any  of  these  people.  My  father  came  from 
Palma,  it  is  true ;  but  he  is  not  a  Jew.  He  is 
descended  from  the  old  Christians ;  and  my 
mother  was  a  woman  of  Aragon,  of  the  Rincon 

165 


Saragossa 

family.     Why  are  we  despised  ?     What   have 
we  done?  " 

Mariquilla's  lips  quivered  in  a  half  disdain- 
ful smile.  Augustine,  tormented  doubtless  by 
painful  feeling,  remained  silent,  his  brow  leant 
upon  the  hands  of  his  sweetheart.  Gruesome 
shapes  of  dread  raised  themselves  threateningly 
between  them.  With  the  eyes  of  the  soul  he 
and  she  beheld  them,  filled  with  fear.  After 
a  long  pause,  Augustine  lifted  his  face. 

"  Mariquilla,  why  are  you  silent?     Tell  me.'* 
"  Why  are  you  silent,  Augustine  ? '' 
"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ?  " 
"  What  are  you  thinking  about  ?  " 
"  I  am   thinking  that  God  will  protect  us,'* 
said    the   young   man.     "  When    the   siege    is 
ended,  we  will  marry.     If  you  wish   to  leave 
Saragossa,   I    will   go   with  you  wherever   you 
wish  to  go.      Has  your  father  ever  spoken  to 
you   of  marriage?" 
"  Never." 

"  He  shall  not  prevent  your  marrying  me. 
My  parents  will  oppose  it ;  but  my  mind  is 
made  up.  I  do  not  understand  life  except 
through  you,  and  if  I  lost  you  I  could  not 
exist.  You  are  the  supreme  necessity  of  my 
soul.  Without  you  I  should  be  like  the  uni- 
verse without  light.     No  human  power  shall 

i66 


Saragossa 

separate  us  as  long  as  you  love  me.  This 
conviction  is  so  rooted  in  me  that  if  I  should 
ever  think  that  we  must  be  separated  in  life, 
it  would  be  to  me  as  if  all  nature  were  over- 
thrown. /  without  jyo^^/  That  seems  to  me 
the  wildest  of  ideas.  I  without  you  !  What 
madness,  what  absurdity  !  It  is  like  the  sea 
on  the  top  of  the  mountains,  like  the  snow  in 
the  depths  of  the  ocean.  It  is  like  rivers 
running  through  the  sky,  and  the  stars  made 
into  fiery  powder  in  the  deserts  of  the  earth. 
It  is  as  if  the  trees  should  talk,  and  man 
should  live  among  metals  and  precious  stones 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  I  am  a  coward 
at  times,  and  I  tremble,  thinking  of  the 
obstacles  that  seem  overwhelming  before  us ; 
but  the  confidence  that  fills  my  spirit,  like  faith 
in  holy  things,  reanimates  me.  If  sometimes 
for  a  moment  I  fear  death,  afterwards  a  secret 
voice  tells  me  that  I  shall  not  die  as  long  as 
you  are  alive.  Do  you  see  all  the  destruction 
made  by  the  siege  which  we  are  enduring  ? 
Do  you  see  how  the  bombs  and  shells  shower 
about  us,  and  how  numbers  of  my  companions 
fall  never  to  rise  ?  Yet,  except  momentaril  y,  none 
of  this  causes  me  any  fear.  I  believe  that  the 
Virgin  del   Pilar  keeps   death   away  from   me. 

Your  sensitiveness  keeps  you  in  constant  com- 

167 


Saragossa 

munion  with  the  angels  of  heaven.  You  are  an 
angel  of  heaven,  and  loving  you  and  being 
loved  by  you  gives  me  a  divine  power  against 
which  the  forces  of  man  avail  nothing." 

Augustine  went  on  for  a  long  time  in  this 
strain,  pouring  out  from  his  over-flowing  fancy 
the  love  and  the  superstitions  which  held  him 
in  thrall. 

"  Indeed,  I  too  have  unchanging  confidence, 
as  you  say,*'  said  Mariquilla.  "  I  am  often 
afraid  that  you  will  be  killed ;  but  I  know  not 
what  voices  I  hear  in  the  depths  of  my  soul 
telling  me  that  they  will  not  kill  you.  It  may 
be  because  I  pray  so  much,  pleading  with  God 
to  preserve  your  life  among  all  these  horrors 
and  in  battle.  I  do  not  know.  At  night 
when  I  go  to  rest,  thinking  of  the  bombs  that 
have  fallen,  and  those  that  are  falling,  and  those 
that  will  fall,  I  go  to  sleep  and  dream  of  battle, 
and  never  cease  hearing  the  noise  of  cannon. 
I  am  very  restless,  and  Guedita,  who  sleeps 
near  me,  says  that  I  talk  in  my  sleep,  saying  a 
thousand  mad  things.  I  must  certainly  say 
something,  for  I  am  always  dreaming.  I  see 
you  on  the  wall.  I  talk  with  you,  and  you 
answer  me.  The  balls  do  not  touch  you  ;  and 
it  seems  to  me  it  is  because  of  the  prayers  I 
say   for    you,   waking   and    sleeping.       A    few 

1 68 


Saragossa 

nights  ago  I  dreamed  that  I  went  with  other 
girls  to  take  care  of  the  wounded,  and  that  we 
were  taking  care  of  a  great  many,  almost  bring- 
ing them  back  to  life  by  what  we  were  doing 
for  them.  I  dreamed  that  when  I  came  back 
to  the  house  I  found  you  here  with  your  father, 
an  old  man,  who  was  smiling  and  talking  with 
mine,  both  seated  upon  the  sofa  in  the  sala. 
Then  I  dreamed  that  your  father  smiled  at  me, 
and  began  to  ask  me  questions.  Sometimes  I 
dream  sad  things.  When  I  am  awake  I  listen, 
and  if  I  do  not  hear  the  noise  of  the  bombard- 
ment, I  ask  if  it  can  be  that  the  French  have 
raised  the  siege.  If  I  hear  a  cannonading,  I 
look  at  the  image  of  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  which 
is  in  my  room,  and  I  question  it  in  thought, 
and  it  answers  me  that  you  are  not  dead,  with- 
out my  knowing  how  the  answer  is  given.  I 
spend  the  day  thinking  about  the  ramparts, 
and  I  wait  at  the  window  to  hear  what  the  sol- 
diers say  who  pass  by  in  the  street.  Some- 
times I  feel  tempted  to  ask  them  if  they  have 
seen  you.  Night  comes  ;  I  see  you  again,  and 
I  am,  oh,  so  contented  !  The  next  day  Guedita 
and  I  occupy  ourselves  in  cooking  something 
good,  unknown  to  my  father.  If  it  is  success- 
ful, we  save  it  for  you  ;  if  it  is  not  quite  so  nice, 
that  little  friar  called  Father  Busto  takes  it  to 

169 


Saragossa 

the  wounded  and  sick.  He  comes  after  dark 
to  get  it,  on  the  pretext  of  visiting  Doiia  Gue- 
dita,  of  whom  he  is  a  kinsman.  We  ask  him 
how  goes  the  battle,  and  he  tells  us  all  about 
it,  that  the  troops  are  performing  deeds  of  great 
valor,  and  the  French  will  be  obliged  to  retire 
in  good  time.  This  news  that  all  goes  well 
makes  us  wild  with  joy.  The  noise  of  the 
bombs  saddens  us  afterwards,  but  praying  we 
recover  our  tranquillity.  Alone  in  our  room  at 
night,  we  make  Hnt  and  bandages  which  Father 
Busto  also  takes  secretly,  as  if  they  were  stolen 
goods.  If  we  hear  my  father's  steps,  we  hide  it 
all  quickly,  and  put  out  the  light,  because  if  he 
should  find  out  what  we  are  doing  he  would 
be  very  angry." 

Mariquilla  smiled  almost  gayly  as  she  told 
of  her  fears  and  joys  with  divine  simplicity. 
The  peculiar  charm  of  her  voice  is  indescrib- 
able. Her  words,  like  the  vibration  of  crystal 
notes,  left  a  harmonious  echo  in  the  soul.  As 
she  ceased  speaking,  the  first  splendors  of 
dawn  illuminated  her  face. 

"  The  day  is  breaking,  Mariquilla,"  said 
Augustine,  "  and  we  must  go.  To-day  we 
are  going  to  defend  Las  Tenerias.  This  will 
be  a  dreadful  day,  and  many  will  be  killed. 
But  the  Virgin  del   Pilar  will  protect  us,  and 

170 


Saragossa 

we  shall  live  to  rejoice  in  victory.  Mariquilla, 
the  balls  will  not  touch  me." 

"  Do  not  go  yet,"  replied  the  daughter  of 
Candiola.  "  Day  is  coming,  it  is  true  ;  but  they 
do  not  need  you  yet  upon  the  walls." 

The  bell  in  the  tower  sounded. 

"  Look  how  those  birds  cruise  about  in  the 
heavens,  announcing  the  dawn,"  said  Augustine, 
with  bitter  irony. 

One,  two,  three  bombs  traversed  the  sky,  as 
yet  faintly  illumined. 

"  How  frightful  !  "  cried  Mariquilla,  yield- 
ing to  the  embrace  of  Montoria.  "  Will  God 
keep  us  to-day  as  He  preserved  us  yester- 
day ? " 

"  We  must  go  to  the  walls,"  I  cried,  rising 
quickly.  "Do  you  not  hear  all  the  drums  and 
bells  sounding  the  call  to  arms  ? " 

Mariquilla,  in  indescribable  panic,  was  weep- 
ing and  trying  to  detain  Montoria.  I  was 
resolved  on  going  at  once,  and  endeavored  to 
take  him  away  with  me.  The  noise  of  the 
drums  and  the  bells  in  the  belfries  of  the  city 
were  sounding  the  call  to  arms.  And  if  we  did 
not  rush  instantly  into  the  lines,  we  ran  the 
risk  of  being  shot  or  arrested. 

"  I  must  go,  I  must  go,  Mariquilla,"  said 
my    friend,    with    profound    emotion.       "  Are 

171 


Saragossa 

you  afraid  ?  No,  this  house  is  sacred  because 
you  live  in  it,  and  will  be  respected  by  the 
enemy's  fire.  God  will  not  visit  your  father's 
cruelty  upon  your  sacred  head." 

The  Dona  Guedita  appeared  abruptly,  say- 
ing that  her  master  was  up  and  dressing  hastily. 
Then  Mariquilla  herself  hurried  us  to  the  foot 
of  the  garden,  ordering  us  to  go  at  once. 
Augustine  was  in  anguish,  and  at  the  gate, 
hesitated  and  stepped  backward  as  if  to  re- 
turn to  the  side  of  the  unhappy  girl,  who, 
half  dead  of  fright,  her  hands  folded  in 
prayer,  was  weeping,  seeing  us  go  from  where 
she  stood  in  the  shade  of  the  cypress  which 
had  sheltered  us.  At  the  moment  when  we 
opened  the  gate,  a  cry  was  heard  from  the  upper 
part  of  the  house,  and  we  saw  Candiola,  who, 
half-dressed,  was  leaning  out  in  a  threatening 
attitude.  Augustine  wished  to  turn  back  ;  but 
I  forced  him  forward,  and  we  went. 

"  To  the  lines  !  To  the  lines,  at  once  !  "  I 
cried.  "  They  will  degrade  us,  Augustine ! 
Leave  your  future  father-in-law  to  deal  with 
your  f  iture  wife  for  the  present." 

We  ran  swiftly  into  the  Coso,  where  we  saw 
that  innumerable  bombs  were  being  hurled 
upon   the  unhappy   city.     Everybody   ran    as 

fast    as    possible  to   the  various    positions    of 

172 


Saragossa 

defence,  —  some  to  Las  Tenerias,  some  to  the 
Portillo,  some  to  Santa  Engracia  or  to  the 
Trinitarios.  As  we  arrived  at  the  arch  of 
Cineja,  we  stumbled  upon  Don  Jose  de  Mon- 
toria,  who,  followed  by  some  of  his  friends,  was 
running  towards  the  Almudi.  In  the  same 
moment  a  terrible  crash  behind  us  proclaimed 
that  one  of  the  enemy's  projectiles  had  fallen 
upon  a  neighboring  residence.  Augustine, 
hearing  this,  turned  back,  longing  to  return 
to  the  place   from  whence  we  came. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  porra  !  "  cried  his 
father,  detaining  him.  "  To  the  Tenerias ! 
Make  haste  !     To  the  Tenerias  !  " 

The  people  who  were  coming  and  going 
knew  the  place  of  the  disaster,  and  we  heard 
them  saying, — 

"  Three  bombs  have  fallen  close  to  the  house 
of  Candiola." 

"  The  angels  of  heaven  certainly  aimed  those 
guns,"  laughed  Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  noisily. 
"  We  shall  see  how  the  Mallorcan  Jew  keeps 
them  off,  if  he  is  still  alive  till  he  puts  his 
money   in  a   place   of  safety." 

''  Let  us  run  and  rescue  those  unfortunate 
beings  ! "  cried  Augustine,  with  emotion. 

"  To  the  lines,  cowards  !  "  said  his  father, 
holding   him   with   an    iron   hand.     "  That  is 

173 


Saragossa 

the    work   of  women  ;    men    must   die  in  the 
breach." 

It  was  necessary  to  make  haste  to  our  places, 
and  we  went,  or  rather  we  were  carried  by  the 
impetuous  surge  of  the  people  running  to 
defend   the   suburb  of  Las   Tenerias. 


174 


CHAPTER   XVII 

"HILE  the  cannons  on  the  Mediodia 
were  throwing  bombs  into  the  centre 
of  the  city,  the  cannon  on  the  east  side  were 
discharging  solid  balls  upon  the  weak  walls  of 
Las  Monicas,  and  the  fortifications  of  earth 
and  brick  of  the  oil  mill,  and  the  battery  of 
Palafox.  Very  soon  the  French  opened  three 
great  breaches,  and  an  attack  was  imminent. 
They  defended  themselves  in  the  Goicoechea 
mill,  which  they  had  taken  the  day  before,  after 
it  had  been  abandoned  and  fired  by  us. 

Certain  of  victory,  the  French  ran  forward 
over  the  plain,  having  received  orders  to 
attack.  Our  battalion  occupied  a  house  in  the 
Calle  de  Pabostre,  whose  walls  had  been  spiked 
along  their  whole  length.  Many  peasants  and 
various  regiments  were  keeping  watch  in  the 
Cortina,  fiery  of  courage  and  with  not  the  least 
terror  before  the  almost  certain  likelihood  of 
death,  hopeful  of  being  useful  in  death  also, 
helping  to  stay  the  enemy's  advance. 

Long  hours  passed.  The  French  questioned 
with  the  artillery  to  see  if  they  were  driving  us 

175 


Saragossa 

out  of  the  suburb  ;  the  walls  were  gradually- 
being  destroyed  ;  the  houses  were  being  shaken 
down  with  the  dreadful  concussion  ;  and  the 
heroic  people,  few  of  whom  had  broken  fast 
even  with  a  bit  of  bread,  were  calling  from  the 
walls,  saying  that  the  enemy  was  coming.  At 
last,  against  the  right  of  the  breach  in  the 
centre  advanced  strong  columns  sustained  by 
others  in  the  rear.  We  saw  that  the  intention 
of  the  French  was  to  possess  themselves  at  all 
hazards  of  that  line  of  crumbling  bricks  which 
some  hundreds  of  madmen  were  defending,  and 
to  take  it  at  any  cost.  Death-dealing  masses 
were  hurled  forward,  the  living  columns  pass- 
ing over  the  dead. 

Let  it  not  be  said  to  make  our  merit  less 
that  the  French  were  not  fighting  under  cover. 
Neither  were  we,  for  none  of  us  could  show 
his  head  above  the  broken  wall  and  keep  it  on. 
Masses  of  men  dashed  against  one  another,  and 
bayonets  were  fed  with  brutal  anger  upon  the 
bodies  of  enemies.  From  the  houses  came 
incessant  fire.  We  could  see  the  French  fall 
in  heaps,  pierced  by  lead  and  steel,  at  the  very 
foot  of  the  ruins  they  were  seeking  to  conquer. 
New  columns  took  the  places  of  the  first,  and 
in  those  who  came  after,  brutalities  of  vengeance 
were  added  to  prodigies  of  valor. 

176 


Saragossa 

On  our  side  the  number  of  those  who  fell 
was  enormous.     The  dead  were  left  by  dozens 
upon  the  earth  along  that  line  which  had  been 
a  wall,  but  was   now   no  more  than  a  shapeless 
mass  of  earth,  bricks,  and  corpses.      The  nat- 
ural,   the   human   thing  would    have    been    to 
abandon   such  positions,   and   not  try  to  hold 
them  against  such   a  combination  of  force  and 
military  skill.      But  there  was   nothing  of  the 
human  or  the  natural  here.     Instead,  the  power 
of  defence  was  extended  infinitely,  to  limits  not 
recognized  by  scientific  calculation,  beyond  or- 
dinary   valor.     The    Aragonese    nature    stood     /■ 
forth,  and    it  is  one  which  does  not  know  how    I 
to  be  conquered.     The  living  took  the  places     N 
of  the  dead  with  a  sublime  aplomb.      Death 
was    an    accident,  a  trivial    detail,  a    thing    of     ) 
which   no  notice  should  be  taken.  ^ 

While  this  was  going  on,  other  columns 
equally  powerful  were  trying  to  take  the  Casa 
de  Gonzalez,  which  I  have  before  mentioned. 
But  from  the  neighboring  houses,  and  the 
towers  of  the  v/all,  came  such  a  terrible  fire  of 
rifies  and  cannons  that  they  desisted  from  their 
attempt.  Other  attacks  took  place,  with  better 
results  for  them,  at  our  right,  toward  the  or- 
chard   of  Camporeal  and  the  batteries  of  Los 

Martires.     The  immense  force  displayed  by  the 
12  177 


Saragossa 

besiegers  along  one  line  of  short  extent  could 
not  fail  to  produce  results.  From  the  house 
in  the  Calle  de  Pabostre,  close  to  the  Molino 
of  the  city,  we  were,  as  I  have  said,  firing  upon 
the  besiegers,  when  behold  the  batteries  of  San 
Jose,  formerly  occupied  in  demolishing  the 
wall,  directed  their  cannons  against  that  ancient 
edifice.  We  felt  that  the  walls  were  trembling ; 
the  beams  were  cracking  like  the  timbers  of 
a  ship  tossed  by  a  tempest ;  the  wood  of  the 
walls  was  cracking  too  in  a  thousand  fragments. 
In  short,  the  place  was  tumbling  down. 

"  Cuerno,  recuerno  !  '*  exclaimed  Uncle 
Garces,  "what  if  the  house  falls  down  upon 
us  ! 

The  smoke  of  the  powder  prevented  us  from 
seeing  what  was  going  on  without  or  within. 

"  To  the  street !  To  the  street !  "  cried  Pirli, 
throwing  himself  out  of  a  window. 

"  Augustine  !  Augustine  !  where  art  thou  ?  " 
I  called  to  my  friend.  But  Augustine  did  not 
appear.  In  that  moment  of  alarm,  not  finding 
either  doorway  or  ladder  to  descend,  I  ran  to 
a  window  to  throw  myself  out ;  and  the  spec- 
tacle which  met  my  eyes  obliged  me  to  draw 
back  without  strength  or  breath.  While  the 
cannons  of  San  Jose  were  essaying  on  the 
right  to  bury  us  in  the  ruins  of  the  house,  and 

178 


Saragossa 

seemed  to  be  accomplishing  it  without  effort, 
in  front  of  and  towards  the  gardens  of  San 
Augustine,  the  French  infantry  had  succeeded 
at  Jast  in  penetrating  the  breaches,  kilUng  those 
unhappy  creatures  scarcely  to  be  called  men, 
and  finishing  those  who  were  already  dying, 
for  indeed  their  desperate  agony  could  not  be 
called  life. 

From  the  neighboring  alleys  came  a  horrible 
fire.  The  cannons  of  the  Calle  de  Diezma 
took  the  place  of  those  of  the  conquered  bat- 
tery. But  the  breach  taken,  the  French  were 
securing  themselves  on  the  walls.  It  was  im- 
possible for  me  to  feel  in  my  soul  a  spark  of 
energy  on  beholding  such  stupendous  disaster. 

I  fled  from  the  window,  terrified,  —  beside 
myself.  A  piece  of  the  wall  cracked  and  fell 
in  enormous  fragments,  and  a  square  window 
took  the  shape  of  an  isosceles  triangle ; 
through  a  corner  of  the  roof  I  could  see  the 
sky.  Bits  of  lime  and  splinters  struck  me  in 
the  face.  I  ran  further  in,  following  others, 
who  were  saying,  "  This  way  !  this  way  !  " 

"  Augustine  !  Augustine  !  "  I  called  again. 
At  last  I  saw  him  among  those  who  were  run- 
ning from  one  room  to  another,  going  up  a 
ladder  which  led  to  a  garret. 

"  Are  you  alive  ?  "  I  asked  him, 

179 


Saragossa 

"  I  do  not  know ;  it  is  not  important,"  he 
answered. 

In  the  garret  we  broke  through  a  partition 
wall,  and  passing  into  another  room,  we  found 
an  outside  staircase.  We  descended  and  came 
to  another  house.  Some  soldiers  followed, 
looking  for  a  place  to  get  into  the  street,  and 
others  remained  there.  The  picture  of  that 
poor  little  room  is  indelibly  fixed  in  my 
memory,  with  all  its  lines  and  colors,  and 
flooded  with  plentiful  light  from  a  large  win- 
dow, opened  upon  the  street.  Portraits  of  the 
Virgin  and  of  the  saints  covered  the  uneven 
walls.  Two  or  three  old  trunks  covered  with 
goat-skin  stood  on  one  side.  On  the  other 
side  we  saw  a  woman's  clothes  hanging  upon 
hooks  and  nails,  and  a  very  high  but  poor- 
looking  bed,  although  the  sheets  were  fresh. 
In  the  window  were  three  large  flower-pots 
with  plants  in  them.  Sheltered  behind  them 
were  two  women  firing  furiously  upon  the 
French  who  occupied  the  breach.  They  had 
two  guns.  One  was  charging,  the  other  firing. 
The  one  who  was  firing  had  been  stooping  to 
aim  from  behind  the  flower-pots.  Resting  the 
trigger  a  minute,  she  lifted  her  head  a  little  to 
look  at  the  field  of  battle. 

"  Manuela    Sancho,"    I    exclaimed,    placing 

1 80 


Saragossa 

my  hand  upon  the  head  of  the  heroic  girl, 
"  resistance  is  no  longer  of  any  use.  The 
next  house  is  already  destroyed  by  the  bat- 
teries of  San  Jose,  and  the  balls  are  already 
beginning  to  fall  upon  the  roof  of  this.  Let 
us  go." 

She  took  no  notice,  and  went  on  shooting. 
At  last  the  house,  which  was  even  less  able 
than  its  neighbor  to  sustain  the  shock  of  the 
projectiles,  quivered  as  If  the  earth  trembled 
beneath  its  foundations.  Manuela  Sancho 
threw  down  her  gun.  She  and  the  woman 
who  was  with  her  ran  into  an  alcove,  where  I 
heard  them  crying  bitterly.  Entering,  we  found 
the  two  girls  embracing  an  old  crippled  woman 
who  was  trying  to  get  up  from  her  bed. 

"  Mother,  it  is  nothing,"  Manuela  said 
soothingly,  covering  her  with  whatever  came 
first  to  her  hand ;  "  we  are  only  going  into  the 
street  because  it  seems  as  if  the  house  is  going 
to  fall  down." 

The  old  woman  did  not  speak.  She  could 
not  speak.  The  two  girls  had  taken  her  In 
their  arms ;  but  we  took  her  in  ours,  charging 
them  to  bring  our  guns  and  whatever  clothing 
they  could  save.  We  passed  out  into  a  court 
which  opened  into  another  street  where  the  fire 
had  not  yet  reached. 

i8i 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE  French  had  taken  possession  also  of 
the  battery  of  Los  Martires.  That 
same  afternoon  they  were  masters  of  the  ruins 
of  Santa  Engracia  and  the  convent  of  Trini- 
tarios.  Is  it  conceivable  that  the  defence  of 
one  plaza  continued  after  all  that  surrounded 
it  was  taken  ?  No,  it  is  not  conceivable  ;  nor 
in  all  military  prevision  has  it  ever  been  sup- 
posed that  after  the  enemy  had  gained  the 
walls  by  irresistible  superiority  of  material 
strength,  the  houses  would  offer  new  lines  of 
defence  improvised  on  the  initiative  of  every  cit- 
izen. It  is  not  conceivable  that  one  house  taken, 
a  veritable  siege  must  necessarily  be  organized 
to  take  the  next  one,  employing  the  spade, 
the  mine,  the  bayonet,  —  devising  an  ingenious 
stratagem  against  a  partition  wall.  It  is  not 
conceivable  that  one  part  of  a  pavement  being 
taken,  it  would  be  necessary  to  pass  opposite 
to  it  to  put  into  execution  the  theories  of 
Vauban,  and  that  to  cross  a  gutter  it  would 
be  necessary  to  make  trenches,  zig-zags,  and 

covered  ways. 

182 


Saragossa 

The  French  generals  put  their  hands  to  their 
brows,  saying,  "  This  is  not  like  anything  that 
we  have  ever  seen.  In  the  glorious  annals  of 
the  empire  one  finds  many  passages  like  this  : 
'We  have  entered  Spandau.  To-morrow  we 
shall  be  in  Berlin.'  That  which  had  not  yet 
been  written  was  this  :  '  After  two  days 
and  two  nights  of  fighting,  we  have  taken 
house  No.  I  in  the  Calle  de  Pabostre.  We 
do  not  know  when  we  shall  be  able  to  take 
No.  2.'" 

We  had  no  time  for  rest.  The  two  cannons 
that  raked  the  Calle  de  Pabostre  and  the  angle 
of  the  Puerta  Quemada  were  left  entirely  with- 
out men.  Some  of  us  ran  to  serve  them,  and 
the  rest  occupied  houses  in  the  Calle  de  Palo- 
mar.  The  French  stopped  firing  against  the 
buildings  which  had  been  abandoned,  repairing 
them  and  occupying  them  as  rapidly  as  they 
could.  They  stopped  up  holes  with  beams, 
gravel,  and  sacks  of  wool.  As  they  could  not 
traverse  without  risk  the  space  between  their 
new  quarters  and  the  crumbling  walls,  they 
commenced  to  open  a  ditch  and  zig-zag  from 
the  Molino  of  the  city  to  the  house  which  we 
had  occupied,  and  of  which  now  only  the  low- 
est story  offered  any  lodgment.  We  knew  that 
when  once  masters  of  that  house  they  would  try, 

183 


Saragossa 

by  tearing  down  partition  walls,  to  gain  posses- 
sion of  the  whole  block.  In  order  to  prevent 
this,  the  troops  which  we  could  spare  were 
distributed  through  all  the  buildings  in  danger 
of  such  attack.  At  the  same  time  our  troops 
were  raising  barricades  at  the  entrances  of  the 
streets,  availing  themselves  of  the  rubbish  and 
fragments  in  their  work.  We  toiled  with 
frenzied  ardor  in  these  various  tasks.  The 
fighting  was  least  difficult  of  all.  From  inside 
the  houses  we  threw  down  over  the  balconies 
all  the  furniture  and  movables.  We  carried  the 
wounded  outside,  leaving  the  dead  to  the  same 
fate  as  the  buildings.  Indeed,  the  only  funeral 
honors  that  we  could  pay  them  was  to  leave 
them  where  they  would  not  be  disturbed.  The 
French  worked  also  to  gain  Santa  Monica,  the 
convent  situated  in  a  line  with  Las  Tenerias,  a 
little  to  the  north  of  the  Calle  de  Pabostre;  but 
its  walls  offered  a  strong  resistance,  and  it  was 
not  as  easy  to  take  as  the  fragile  houses  which 
the  booming  of  the  cannon  caused  to  tremble. 
The  volunteers  of  Huesca  defended  it  vigor- 
ously ;  and,  after  repeated  attacks,  the  besiegers 
left  the  assault  for  another  day.  Having 
gained  possession  only  of  a  few  houses,  they 
remained  in  them  when  night  came,  like  rabbits 
in  a  warren.     Woe  to  the  head  that  appeared 

184 


Saragossa 

at  a  window !  The  neighboring  walls,  the 
roofs,  the  skylights  were  filled  with  attentive 
eyes  that  saw  the  least  carelessness  of  a  French 
soldier,  and  guns  were  ready  for  him. 

When  night  came,  we  began  to  make  holes 
in  the  partition  walls  in  order  to  open  com- 
munication between  all  the  houses  in  the  same 
block.  In  spite  of  the  incessant  noise  of  the 
cannon,  we  could  hear  within  the  buildings 
the  picks  of  the  enemy  occupied  in  the  same 
sort  of  work  as  ourselves.  As  the  architecture 
was  fragile,  and  almost  all  the  partition  walls 
were  of  earth,  we  had  in  a  short  time  opened 
passages  between  many  houses. 

About  ten  o'clock  at  night,  we  found  our- 
selves in  one  which  we  knew  must  be  very 
near  that  of  Manuela  Sancho,  when  we  heard, 
through  unknown  conduits,  through  cellars  and 
subterranean  passages,  a  sound  which  we  real- 
ized must  be  the  voices  of  the  enemy.  A 
terrified  woman  came  up  a  ladder  and  told  us 
that  the  French  were  opening  a  gap  in  the 
wall  of  the  room  below.  We  descended  in- 
stantly. We  were  not  yet  all  in  the  cold, 
narrow,  dark  place,  when  at  its  mouth  a  gun 
was  fired  at  us,  and  one  of  our  companions 
was  slightly  wounded  in  the  shoulder. 

By  the  dim  light  we  perceived  several   fig- 

185 


Saragossa 

ures  that  forced  their  way  into  the  room,  and, 
advancing,  fired,  while  others  came  behind. 
At  the  noise  of  gunshots,  our  friends  hurried 
down  to  us,  and  we  penetrated  boldly  into  the 
dark  place.  The  enemy  did  not  remain  in  it, 
and  as  swiftly  as  possible  hurried  back  through 
the  hole  they  had  opened  in  the  wall,  seeking 
refuge  in  the  place  whence  they  had  come. 
We  sent  some  balls  after  them.  We  were  not 
completely  in  darkness,  as  they  had  a  lantern 
some  of  whose  feeble  rays  came  through  the 
aperture  diffusing  a  reddish  light  over  the 
theatre   of  the   struggle. 

I  have  never  seen  anything  like  it,  nor  did 
I  ever  behold  a  combat  between  four  black 
walls  by  the  faint  light  of  a  lantern  that  cast 
flickering  shadows  like  spectres  around  us. 
The  light  was  prejudicial  to  the  French  ;  for 
we  were  on  the  safe,  dark  side  of  the  hole,  and 
they  were  good  targets  for  us.  We  shot  at 
them  for  a  short  time,  and  two  of  our  com- 
rades fell,  dead  or  badly  wounded,  upon  the 
damp  earth.  In  spite  of  this  disaster,  others 
came  to  push  the  advantage,  assaulting  the 
hole  in  the  wall  and  penetrating  into  the 
enemy's  den.  But  although  fire  had  ceased 
there,  it  seemed  as  if  the  enemy  were  preparing 
for  a  better  attack.     Suddenly  the  lantern  went 

i86 


Saragossa 

out,  and  we  were  left  in  black  darkness.  We 
looked  about  for  the  way  out,  and  stum- 
bled against  one  another.  This  state  of  things, 
together  with  the  fear  of  being  attacked  by 
superior  forces,  or  that  they  would  hurl  shells 
into  that  sepulchre,  made  us  huddle  confusedly 
into  the  outer  court  as  soon  as  we  found  the 
way.  We  took  time,  nevertheless,  to  find  our 
two  comrades  who  had  fallen  during  the  fray ; 
then  we  went  out  and  shut  up  the  aperture 
with  stones  and  rubbish  and  planks  and  bar- 
rels, whatever  came  to  our  hands  in  the  court- 
yard. On  going  up,  our  commander  detailed 
men  in  different  parts  of  the  house,  leaving 
a  couple  of  sentinels  in  the  court  to  listen  to 
the  blows  of  the  hostile  pick.  He  sent  me 
out  with  others  to  bring  in  a  little  food,  of 
which  we  were  all  much  in  need. 

In  the  street  it  seemed  to  us  that  we  had 
come  from  a  tranquil  position  into  a  very  hell, 
for  now  in  the  dead  of  night  the  firing  was 
continued  between  the  houses  and  the  walls. 
The  clearness  of  the  moonlight  made  it  easy 
to  run  from  one  point  to  another  without 
stumbling,  and  the  streets  were  constantly 
traversed  by  bodies  of  troops  and  peasants  who 
were  going  where,  according  to  the  public 
voice,  there  was  some  real  danger.     Many,  not 

187 


Sarao;ossa 

in  the  lines,  guided  by  their  own  instincts,  ran 
here  and  there,  firing  whenever  opportunity 
offered.  The  bells  of  all  the  churches  sounded 
a  mournful  call,  and  at  each  step  we  encoun- 
tered groups  of  women  carrying  the  wounded. 

In  all  directions,  especially  at  the  extremi- 
ties of  the  streets  that  ended  at  the  walls  of 
Las  Tenerias,  bodies  were  seen  stacked  up  in 
piles,  the  wounded  mingled  with  those  already 
corpses.  It  was  not  possible  to  tell  from 
which  mouths  came  the  pitiful  voices  that 
implored  aid.  I  have  never  seen  such  hor- 
rible suffering.  I  was  impressed  more  than 
by  the  spectacle  of  the  disasters  caused  by 
iron  and  steel,  seeing  many  who  were  suffering 
from  the  epidemic  lying  on  the  doorsteps  of  the 
houses,  or  dragging  themselves  through  the 
throng  in  search  of  a  safe  place.  They  were  dying 
every  moment  without  having  a  sign  of  a  wound 
upon  them.  Their  teeth  chattered  with  the 
dreadful  chill,  and  they  begged  for  help,  holding 
out  their  hands  because  they  could  not  speak. 

In  addition  to  all  this,  hunger  was  demoral- 
izing us.     We  could  scarcely  stand. 

"  Where  shall  we  ever  find  something  to 
eat  ?  "  Augustine  asked  me.  "  Who  is  going 
to  see  about  that  ?  " 

"  This  thing  must  end  soon  in  one  way  or 

i88 


Saragossa 

the  other/'   I  answered  ;  "  either  the  city  will 
surrender,  or  we  shall  all  perish." 

At  last,  near  the  Coso,  we  met  some  of  the 
commissary  who  were  dealing  out  rations. 
We  took  ours  eagerly,  taking  also  all  that  we 
could  carry  for  our  comrades.  They  received 
it  with  a  great  racket,  and  a  sort  of  joviality  in- 
appropriate to  the  circumstances.  But  the 
Spanish  soldier  is  and  always  has  been  like 
that.  While  they  were  eating  some  crusts 
of  bread  as  hard  as  cobble-stones,  the  unani- 
mous opinion  spread  through  the  battalion  that 
Saragossa  never  would  surrender,  and  never 
should    surrender. 

It  was  midnight  when  the  firing  dwindled 
down.  The  French  had  not  conquered  a 
hand's  breadth  of  earth  more  than  the  houses 
they  had  occupied  at  sunset,  although  they 
were  not  to  be  driven  out  of  the  quarters  they 
had  taken.  This  was  left  for  the  days  that 
followed.  When  the  influential  men  of  the 
city,  the  Montorias,  the  Ceresos,  the  Sases,  the 
Salameros,  and  the  San  Clementes  were  re- 
turning to  Las  Monicas,  the  scene  that  night 
of  great  prodigies  of  valor,  they  showed  such 
tremendous  courage  and  uttered  such  contempt 
of  the  enemy  that  it  roused  the  spirits  of  all 
who  saw  and  heard  them. 

189 


Saragossa 

"  Little  has  been  accomplished  to-night," 
said  Montoria.  "  Our  men  have  been  a  bit 
remiss.  It  is  true  that  it  was  not  possible  to 
drive  them  all  out,  nor  ought  we  to  have  come 
out  into  the  open,  though  the  French  attacked 
us  with  little  energy.  I  have  seen  a  few  de- 
feats, nothing  of  consequence.  The  nuns 
have  beaten  up  plenty  of  oil  with  wine,  and 
now  it  is  only  a  question  of  binding  up  a  few 
wounds.  If  there  were  time,  it  would  be  well 
to  bury  the  dead  in  this  heap,  but  there  will  be 
more  presently.  The  epidemic  is  getting  hold 
of  more  men.  They  need  rubbing.  Plenty  of 
rubbing  is  what  I  believe  in.  For  the  present, 
they  can  very  well  go  without  broth.  Broth 
is  an  unpleasant  beverage.  I  would  give  them 
a  dose  of  spirits.  In  a  little  while  they  would 
be  able  to  handle  a  gun.  Well,  sirs,  the  fiesta 
appears  to  be  over  for  to-night.  Let  us  take 
a  nap  for  half  an  hour,  and  to-morrow,  —  to- 
morrow, I  have  a  notion  that  the  French  will 
make  a  formal  attack  upon  us." 

He  turned  to  his  son,  who  had  come  up  with 
me,  and  cried  out,  — 

"  Oh,  my  Augustine,  I  have  been  asking 
for  you,  because  in  such  a  battle  as  to-day 
it  happens  that  some  must  die.  Are  you 
wounded?      You    have    nothing    the    matter? 

190 


Saragossa 

Let  us  see,  a  little  gun-scratch  ?  Ah,  a  trifle  ! 
It  strikes  me  that  you  have  scarcely  borne 
yourself  like  a  Montoria.  And  you,  Araceli, 
have  you  lost  any  legs  ?  Not  even  that  ! 
The  two  of  you  have  just  come  out  from  some 
good  shelter,  I  should  say.  You  have  not  even 
turned  a  hair.  It 's  a  bad  business.  I  call 
you  a  pair  of  hens !  Go,  rest  awhile,  not 
more  than  a  hand's  shake.  If  you  feel  your- 
selves attacked  by  the  epidemic,  rubbing  and 
plenty  of  it  is  the  best  thing.  Well,  sirs,  we 
depend  upon  it  that  to-morrow  these  houses 
will  be  defended  wall  by  wall,  partition  by  parti- 
tion. The  same  thing  will  go  on  in  every  part 
of  the  city,  and  in  every  alcove  there  will  be 
a  battle.  Let  us  go  to  the  Captain-General, 
and  see  if  Palafox  agrees  with  us.  There  is 
no  other  way,  —  either  to  deliver  the  city  to 
them,  or  to  dispute  each  brick  as  if  it  were  a 
treasure.  We  will  tire  them  out.  To-day 
six  or  eight  thousand  men  have  perished. 
Now  let  us  go  and  see  that  most  excel- 
lent Seiior  Don  Jose.  Good-night,  boys,  and 
to-morrow  try  and  manage  to  shake  off  your 
cowardice." 

"  Let  us  go  and  sleep  a  little,"  I  said  to  my 
friend.  "  Let  us  come  to  a  house  where  I  have 
seen  some  mattresses.'' 

191 


Saragossa 

'^  I  cannot  sleep,"  said  Montoria,  walking 
on  along  the  Coso. 

"  I  know  where  you  are  going.  We  are 
not  permitted  to  go  as  far  as  that,  Augustine." 

Many  men  and  women  were  running  up  and 
down,  back  and  forth  in  the  broad  avenue. 
All  of  a  sudden  a  woman  came  running  swiftly 
to  us  and  embraced  Augustine,  speechless,  deep 
emotion  choking  her. 

"  Mariquilla,  Mariquilla  of  my  heart !  "  ex- 
claimed Montoria,  embracing  her  joyously. 
"How  is  it  that  you  are  here?  I  was  just 
now  going  in  search  of  you." 

Mariquilla  could  not  speak,  and,  without  the 
sustaining  arm  of  her  lover,  her  weak  and 
wavering  body  would  have  fallen  to  the  ground. 

"  Are  you  ill  ?  What  is  the  matter.^  Is  it  true 
that  the  bombs  have  destroyed  your  house  ?  " 

It  was  even  so,  and  the  young  girl's  whole 
aspect  showed  her  great  distress.  Her  cloth- 
ing was  that  which  we  saw  on  her  the  night 
before.  Her  hair  was  loosened,  and  we  could 
see  burns  upon  her  poor  bruised  arms. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  at  last,  in  a  stifled  voice. 
"  Our  house  is  gone.  We  have  nothing.  We 
have  lost  everything.  This  morning,  soon 
after  you  had  gone,  a  bomb  destroyed  the 
house,  then  two  others  fell." 

192 


Saragossa 


And  your  father  ?  '* 

My  father  is  there,  and  will  not  abandon 
the  ruins  of  the  house.  I  have  been  looking 
for  you  all  day,  for  you  to  help  us.  I  have 
been  under  fire.  I  have  been  in  all  the  streets 
of  the  suburb.  I  have  entered  several  houses. 
I  was  afraid  that  you  were  dead." 

Augustine  seated  himself  in  a  gateway,  and, 
sheltering  Mariquilla  with  his  military  cloak, 
he  held  her  in  his  arms  as  one  holds  a  child. 
Freed  thus  from  her  terror,  she  could  talk ; 
and  she  told  us  that  she  had  not  been  able  to 
save  a  single  thing.  They  had  scarcely  had 
time  to  get  out  of  the  house.  The  unhappy 
girl  was  trembling  with  cold,  and,  putting  my 
cloak  over  Augustine's,  we  tried  to  take  her  to 
the  house  where  we  were  on  duty. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  must  go  back  to  my 
father.  He  is  wild  and  desperate,  and  is  utter- 
ing blasphemies  against  God  and  the  saints.  I 
have  not  been  able  to  get  him  away  from  that 
which  was  our  house.  We  are  in  need  of  food. 
The  neighbors  were  not  willing  to  give  us  any- 
thing. If  you  are  not  willing  to  take  me 
there,  I  will  go  alone." 

"  No,   Mariquilla,    no.     You    shall    not    go 
there,"  said   Montoria.      "  We  will  put  you  in 
one  of  these  houses  where  at  least  for  to-night 
13  193 


Saragossa 

you  will  be  safe.  In  the  mean  time  Gabriel 
shall  go  in  search  of  your  father,  and  take  him 
something  to  eat,  and  by  persuasion  or  by 
force  will  get  him  away  from  there." 

Mariquilla  insisted  upon  returning  to  the 
Calle  de  Anton  Trillo.  But  as  she  scarcely 
had  strength  to  move,  we  took  her  in  our  arms 
to  a  house  in  the  Calle  de  los  Clavos,  where 
Manuela  Sancho  was. 


194 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE  firing  of  the  guns  and  cannon  ceased. 
A  great  splendor  was  illumining  the  city. 
It  was  the  burning  of  the  Audiencia.  The 
fire,  beginning  about  midnight,  was  devouring 
all  four  sides  of  that  splendid  edifice  at  one 
time.  Without  heeding  anything  but  my 
errand,  I  hurried  to  the  Calle  de  Anton  Trillo. 
The  house  of  Candiola  had  been  burning  all 
day.  At  last  the  flame  had  been  stifled  by 
pieces  of  falling  roofs,  and  between  the  portions 
of  walls  still  standing  issued  black  columns  of 
smoke.  Through  the  window-frames  showed 
patches  of  sky,  and  the  bricks,  crumbling  away, 
had  made  a  ragged-toothed  looking  thing  of 
that  which  had  been  an  architrave.  Part  of 
the  wall  which  fronted  on  the  garden  had  fallen 
down  over  the  balcony,  covering  the  end  where 
the  railing  and  the  stone  stairway  had  been,  its 
stones  spreading  forward  to  the  street  wall.  In 
the  midst  of  these  ruins  the  cypress  stood  un- 
harmed, like  the  life  which  remains  when  the 
substance  is  gone.     It  raised  its  black  head  like 

195 


Saragossa 

a  memorial.  The  gate  had  been  destroyed  by 
the  axes  of  those  who  had  rushed  up  at  first 
to  try  to  put  out  the  fire. 

When  I  penetrated  into  the  garden,  I  saw 
some  people  at  the  right  and  near  the  grating 
of  a  lower  window.  It  was  the  part  of  the 
house  which  was  best  preserved.  And,  indeed, 
the  lower  floor  had  suffered  little,  perhaps 
nothing  ;  the  bulging  out  of  the  roof  of  the 
principal  part  had  not  affected  this,  although  it 
was  to  be  expected  that  it  would  give  way 
sooner  or  later  under  the  great  weight.  I 
approached  the  group  to  find  Candiola.  He 
was  there,  seated  close  to  the  grating  with  his 
hands  crossed,  his  head  upon  his  breast,  his 
clothing  torn  and  burned.  He  was  surrounded 
by  a  little  crowd  of  women  and  boys,  who 
were  buzzing  about  him  like  bees,  pouring 
forth  the  whole  gamut  of  insults  and  taunts. 
It  cost  me  no  great  trouble  to  put  the  swarm 
to  flight ;  and  although  they  did  not  all  go  far 
away,  and  persisted  in  hanging  about,  thinking 
to  get  a  chance  at  the  gold  of  the  rich  Candiola, 
he  was  at  least  freed  from  the  annoyance  of 
their  immediate  presence,  and  the  sneers  and 
cruel  jests  with  which  he  had  been  tormented. 

"  Senor  soldier,*'  he  said  to  me,  "I  am  grate- 
ful to  you  for  putting  this  vile  mob  to  flight. 

196 


Saragossa 

Here  my  house  is  burned  and  no  one  helps 
me.  Are  there  no  authorities  now  in  Saragossa, 
senor  ?  What  a  people  !  What  a  people  ! 
It  is  not  because  we  have  not  paid  our  taxes." 

"  The  civil  authorities  do  not  occupy  them- 
selves except  with  the  military  operations,"  I 
answered  him;  " and  so  many  houses  have  been 
destroyed  that  it  is  impossible  to  run  to  them 
all." 

"  May  he  be  cursed  a  thousand  times  !  "  he 
cried,  "  a  thousand  curses  be  on  the  head  of 
him  who  has  brought  all  this  distress  upon  us  ! 
May  he  be  tormented  in  hell  for  a  thousand 
eternities,  and  then  he  would  not  pay  the  pen- 
alty of  his  crime.  But  what  the  devil  are  you 
looking  for  here,  senor  soldier  ?  Are  you  not 
willing  to  leave  me  in  peace  ?  " 

"  I  have  come  in  search  of  Senor  Candiola," 
I  replied,  "  in  order  to  take  him  where  he  can 
be  looked  after,  have  his  wounds  dressed,  and 
be  given  a  little  food." 

"  For  me  ?  I  will  not  leave  my  house,"  he 
cried  in  a  sad  voice.  "  The  committee  will 
have  to  rebuild  it  for  me.  Where  do  you 
want  to  take  me  ?  I  am  in  the  situation  now 
to  be  offered  alms.  My  enemies  have  their 
will,  which  was  to  put  me  in  the  position  of 
begging  alms.     But   I    shall    not  beg,  no.     I 

197 


Saragossa 

Will  sooner  eat  my  own  flesh  and  drink  my 
own  blood  than  humble  myself  before  those 
who  have  brought  me  to  such  a  state.  Per- 
haps they  have  sold  themselves  to  the  French, 
and  prolong  the  resistance  to  earn  their  .money. 
Then  they  will  deliver  the  city,  and  they  will 
be  all  right." 

"  Do  leave  all  those  considerations  for  an- 
other time!"  I  said.  "And  follow  me  now, 
because  it  is  not  the  time  to  think  about  all 
that.  Your  daughter  has  found  a  place  of 
safety,  and  we  will  give  you  a  refuge  in  the 
same  place." 

"  I  do  not  move  from  here.  Where  is  my 
daughter  ?  "  he  asked  anxiously.  "  She  must 
be  mad  not  to  stay  beside  her  father  in  his  dis- 
tress. It  is  because  she  is  ashamed,  that  she 
deserted  me.  Curse  her,  and  the  hour  when 
I  begat  her  !  Lord  Jesus  of  Nazareth  and 
thou  my  patron.  Saint  Domenguito  del  Val, 
tell  me  what  have  I  done  to  deserve  so  many 
misfortunes  in  the  same  day  ?  Am  I  not 
good  ?  Do  I  not  do  all  the  good  I  can  ?  Do 
I  not  favor  my  neighbors,  lending  them 
money  at  low  interest  ?  Suppose  I  do  ask  a 
trifle  of  three  or  four  reales  on  the  dollar  by 
the  month  ?  If  I  am  a  good  man,  exact  and 
careful,  why  is  such  distress  heaped  upon  me  ? 

198 


Saragossa 

I  am  thankful  that  I  have  not  lost  the  little 
that  by  hard  work  I  have  got  together,  because 
it  is  in  a  place  where  the  bombs  cannot  reach 
it ;  but  the  house  and  the  furniture,  and  the  re- 
ceipts, and  that  which  was  left  in  the  store- 
house !  May  I  be  damned,  and  may  the 
devils  eat  me,  if  when  this  is  all  over,  and  I  get 
together  the  little  that  I  have  here,  I  do  not 
leave  Saragossa,  never  again  to  return  !  " 

"  Nothing  of  all  this  is  to  the  point  now, 
Senor  Candiola,"  I  said  impatiently ;  "  come 
with  me !  '* 

"  No,'*  said  he  furiously.  "  No,  it  would  be 
madness  !  My  daughter  has  disgraced  herself. 
I  do  not  know  why  I  did  not  kill  her  this  morn- 
ing. Until  now  I  had  supposed  Mariquilla  a 
model  of  virtue  and  honesty.  I  delighted  in 
her  companionship  ;  and  out  of  every  good  deal 
I  set  apart  a  real  to  buy  her  finery,  —  money 
badly  spent !  My  God,  dost  thou  punish  me 
for  wasting  good  money  on  useless  things 
which  if  placed  at  interest  would  have  been 
tripled  ?  I  had  confidence  in  my  daughter. 
This  morning  at  daybreak,  I  began  by  praying 
with  fervor  to  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  to  free  me 
from  the  bombardment.  I  tranquilly  opened 
the  window  to  see  what  the  weather  was.  Put 
yourself  in  my  place,  senor  soldier,  and  you  will 

199 


Saragossa 

understand  my  surprise  and  pain  at  seeing  two 
men  right  over  there  in  that  balcony,  —  two 
men,  sir.  I  see  them  now!  One  of  them  was 
embracing  my  daughter.  They  were  both 
dressed  in  uniform.  I  could  not  see  their 
faces,  for  the  light  of  day  was  yet  faint.  Hur- 
riedly I  left  my  room ;  but  when  I  descended 
to  the  garden,  the  two  were  already  in  the 
street.  My  daughter  was  dumb  at  seeing  her 
lightness  discovered.  Reading  in  my  face  the 
indignation  which  such  vile  conduct  roused  in 
me,  she  threw  herself  on  her  knees  before  me, 
begging  my  pardon.  '  Wretch  ! '  I  said  in  a 
rage,  '  you  are  not  my  daughter  !  You  are 
not  the  daughter  of  this  honorable  man  who 
has  never  done  wrong  to  anybody.  Mad  child, 
shameless,  you  are  not  my  daughter !  Leave 
this  place!  Two  men,  two  men  in  my  house 
at  night,  with  you  !  Have  you  not  been  mak- 
ing it  easy  for  those  men  to  rob  me  ?  Have 
you  not  shown  them  this  house  where  there 
are  a  thousand  objects  of  value  which  can  be 
concealed  in  a  pocket?  You  deserve  death. 
If,  —  yes,  —  I  am  not  deceived,  those  men 
carried  away  something.  Two  men,  two  sweet- 
hearts !  And  receiving  them  at  night  and  in 
my  house,  dishonoring  your  father  and  offend- 
ing God.     And  I  from  my  room  saw  the  light 


200 


Saragossa 

in  yours,  and  believed  that  you  were  wakeful 
and  working.  You  wretched  little  thing,  while 
you  were  in  the  garden  that  light  in  your  room 
was  wasting,  burning  uselessly.  You  miserable 
woman ! '  Oh,  senor  soldier,  I  could  not  con- 
tain my  indignation.  I  seized  her  by  the  arm 
and  dragged  her  along  to  throw  her  out.  In 
my  anger  I  knew  not  what  I  did.  The 
wretched  girl  begged  my  pardon,  saying,  '  I 
love  him,  father,  I  cannot  deny  that  I  love 
him.'  My  fury  was  redoubled  at  this,  and  I 
cried,  ^  Cursed  be  the  bread  that  I  have  given 
you  for  nineteen  years,  to  invite  thieves  into 
my  house !  Cursed  be  the  hour  when  yCu 
were  born,  and  the  linens  in  which  we  wrapped 
you  on  the  third  of  February  in  the  year  '91  ! 
Sooner  shall  the  heavens  fall,  sooner  shall  the 
Virgin  del  Pilar  let  me  go  from  her  hand,  than  I 
will  again  be  your  father,  and  you  be  for  me  the 
Mariquilla  that  I  have  so  much  loved  !  * 

"  I  had  scarcely  said  this,  senor,  when  it 
seemed  as  if  the  very  heavens  were  rent  in  pieces, 
falling  upon  my  house.  What  a  terrible  noise 
it  was  !  A  bomb  fell  upon  the  roof,  and  within 
five  minutes  two  others  fell.  We  ran  in  ;  the 
flames  were  spreading  hungrily,  and  the  falling 
of  the  roof  threatened  to  bury  us  where  we 
stood.     We  tried  in  great  haste  to  save  some 

201 


Saragossa 

few  little  things  ;  but  it  was  not  possible.  This 
house,  this  house  which  I  bought  in  the  year 
'87  for  almost  nothing,  because  the  mortgage 
on  it  was  foreclosed  against  a  debtor  who  owed 
me  fiVQ  thousand  reales  with  thirteen  thousand 
reales  interest,  —  this  house  was  fairly  crumbling 
to  bits.  Over  there  a  plank  fell ;  over  there  a 
pane  of  glass  leaped  out ;  on  the  side  yonder 
the  walls  burst  in.  The  cat  yowled,  and 
Doiia  Guedita  fairly  clawed  me  in  the  face  as 
we  got  out  of  the  room.  I  ventured  into  my 
own  room  to  try  to  get  some  little  receipts,  and 
came  near  perishing." 

Candiola's  distress  and  moral  suffering  made 
it  seem  as  if  he  had  a  nervous  disorder.  It 
was  plain  to  be  seen  that  terror  and  grief  had 
completely  upset  him.  His  talkativeness  was 
not  of  the  sort  that  soothes  the  soul,  it  was  a 
nervous  overflow ;  and  although  he  appeared 
to  talk  with  me,  he  was  in  reality  addressing 
himself  to  invisible  beings.  To  judge  by  his 
gestures,  they  talked  to  him  in  turn.  He  went 
on  talking,  and  answering  questions  which  his 
imaginary  interlocutors  were  asking  him. 

"  I  have  said  already  that  I  shall  not  leave 
this  place  while  such  a  quantity  of  things  which 
can  still  be  saved  is  not  recovered.  Indeed, 
am  I  going  to  abandon  my  estate  ?     Are  there 

202 


Saragossa 

no  authorities  in  Saragossa  ?  If  there  are,  then 
a  hundred  or  two  workmen  should  be  sent  here 
to  remove  this  debris  and  take  out  something. 
But,  sefior,  is  there  no  one  who  has  any  charity 
for,  any  compassion  upon  this  unhappy  old 
man  who  has  never  harmed  anybody  ?  Shall 
one  sacrifice  all  one*s  life  for  others,  and,  com- 
ing into  such  a  plight  as  this,  find  no  friendly 
hand  held  out  to  help  him  ?  No,  no  one 
comes,  or  if  they  do,  it  is  to  see  if  they  can 
find  any  money  among  the  ruins.  Ha,  ha, 
ha  ! "  he  laughed  like  a  madman.  "  It  is  a 
good  joke  on  them.  I  have  always  been  a 
cautious  man,  and  since  the  siege  began  I  have 
put  my  frugal  savings  in  a  place  so  secure  that 
I  alone  can  find  them.  No,  thieves !  no, 
swindlers  !  no,  selfish  ones  !  —  you  would  not 
find  a  real,  though  you  should  lift  every  frag- 
ment and  break  into  bits  the  ruins  of  this  house, 
though  you  make  toothpicks  of  all  the  wood 
in  it,  though  you  reduce  everything  to  powder 
and  sift  it !  " 

"  Then,  Seiior  Candiola,"  I  said,  taking  him 
resolutely  by  the  arm  to  lead  him  away,  "  if 
your  treasures  are  safe,  what  is  the  good  of 
staying  here   to  watch   them  ?     Let  us  go  ! " 

"  Have  you  not  understood  me,  you  med- 
dlesome   fellow?/'    he    cried,  loosing   his  arm 

203 


Saragossa 

forcibly ;  "  go  to  the  devil,  and  leave  me  in 
peace  !  How  do  you  suppose  I  am  going  to 
leave  my  house  when  the  authorities  of  Sara- 
gossa have  not  sent  a  detachment  of  troops  to 
guard  it  ?  Indeed !  Do  you  suppose  that 
my  house  is  not  full  of  valuable  things  ?  How 
can  you  think  that  I  would  go  from  here  with- 
out taking  them  ?  You  can  see  that  this  first 
story  is  unhurt?  By  removing  this  grating, 
it  could  be  easily  entered  and  everything  taken 
away.  If  I  tear  myself  from  here  for  a  single 
moment,  the  thieves  will  come,  the  refuse  of 
the  neighborhood,  and  woe  to  all  my  work  and 
my  savings  then,  to  the  furniture  and  utensils 
which  represent  forty  years  of  hard  work. 
Look  on  the  table  of  my  room,  senor  soldier, 
and  you  will  find  a  copper  dish  which  weighs 
no  less  than  three  pounds.  That  must  be 
saved  at  any  cost.  If  the  authorities  would 
send  a  company  of  engineers  here,  as  it  is  their 
duty  to  do  —  There  is  a  table  service  in  the 
cupboard  in  the  dining-room  which  must  re- 
main intact.  By  entering  carefully,  propping 
up  the  roof,  they  could  save  it.  Oh,  yes,  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  to  save  that  set.  It  is  not 
merely  that,  senor.  In  a  tin  box  are  my 
receipts.  I  hope  to  save  them.  There  is  also 
a  trunk  where  I  keep  two  old  coats  and  some 

204 


Saragossa 

shoes  and  three  hats.  All  these  things  are 
down  here  on  this  story,  and  are  not  likely  to 
be  hurt.  My  daughter's  clothing  is  all  irre- 
coverably lost.  Her  dresses,  her  jewelry,  her 
handkerchiefs,  her  bottles  of  perfume  would 
be  worth  a  good  sum  of  money  if  they  were  to 
be  had  now.  How  could  it  be  that  all  this 
should  be  destroyed  ?  My  Lord,  what  trouble  ! 
It  must  be  true  that  God  wished  to  punish 
the  sin  of  my  daughter,  and  the  bombs  fell 
upon  her  bottles  of  perfume.  I  left  my  waist- 
coat upon  the  bed,  and  in  the  pocket  there  was 
a  peseta  and  a  half  And  there  are  not  even 
twenty  men  here  yet  with  picks  and  spades. 
Just  and  merciful  Heaven,  what  are  the  authori- 
ties of  Saragossa  thinking  about !  The  double- 
wicked  lamp  will  not  be  ruined.  It  is  the  best 
olive-oil  burner  in  the  world.  We  might  find 
it  over  yonder,  by  lifting  carefully  the  fragments 
of  that  corner  room.  Let  them  send  workmen 
here,  and  see  that  they  do  it  quickly.  How 
can  any  one  expect  me  to  leave  this  place  ? 
If  I  should  go,  or  if  I  should  sleep  for  a  single 
instant,  the  thieves  would  come.  Yes,  they 
will  come,  and  take  away  that  piece  of  copper 
from  Palma." 

The  obstinacy  of  the  miser  was  so  persistent 
that  I  resolved  to  go  without  him,  leaving  him 

205 


Saragossa 

given  over  to  his  delirious  anxiety.  Dona 
Guedita  now  arrived,  walking  hastily.  She 
brought  a  pick  and  spade,  and  a  Httle  basket  in 
which  I  saw  some  provisions. 

"  Senor,"  she  said,  sitting  down  tired  and 
breathless,  "  here 's  the  pick  and  spade  my 
nephew  has  given  me.  They  will  not  need 
them  any  more,  because  they  are  not  going  to 
make  any  more  fortifications.  Here  are  some 
half-spoiled  raisins  and  some  crusts  of  bread.'* 
The  old  woman  ate  hungrily;  not  so  Candiola, 
who,  despising  the  bread,  seized  the  pick. 
Resolutely,  as  if  his  body  were  suddenly 
filled  with  new  energy,  he  tried  to  unhinge 
the  grating ;  working  with  eager  activity,  he 
said,  — 

"  If  the  authorities  of  Saragossa  are  not  will- 
ing to  do  their  duty  by  me,  Doiia  Guedita, 
between  you  and  me,  we  will  do  it  all  !  You 
take  the  spade  and  get  ready  to  move  the  frag- 
ments as  I  dig.  Look  out  for  the  beams  that 
are  still  smoking.      Look  out  for  the  nails  !  " 

I  was  trying  to  interpret  the  signs  of  intel- 
ligence made  me  by  the  housekeeper,  when  he 
turned  to  me,  saying, — 

"  Go  to  the  devil !  What  business  have  you 
in  my  house  ?  Get  out  of  here  !  We  under- 
stand you,  —  you  have  come  to  see  if  you  can 

206 


Saragossa 

pick    up    anything.      There   is   nothing   here. 
Everything  is  burned  up." 

There  was  certainly  no  hope  of  taking  him 
with  me  to  Las  Tenerias  to  set  poor  Mari- 
quilla's  mind  at  rest,  and  so,  not  being  able  to 
stay  any  longer,  I  went.  Master  and  servant 
were  working  away  with  great  vigor. 


W.  jTifV. 


207 


CHAPTER   XX 

I  SLEPT  from  three  o'clock  until  daybreak, 
and  in  the  morning  we  heard  mass  in  the 
Coso.  In  the  large  balcony  of  a  house  called 
Las  Monas  at  the  entrance  of  the  Calle  de  las 
Escuelas  Pias  all  the  priests  had  set  up  an  altar 
and  celebrated  there  the  divine  office.  By  the 
situation  of  the  building,  it  was  possible  to  see 
the  priests  from  anywhere  in  the  Coso.  It 
was  a  profoundly  moving  sight,  especially  at 
the  moment  of  the  elevation  of  the  host ;  and 
when  all  knelt  in  prayer,  the  low  murmur  of 
the  service  could  be  heard  from  one  end  of  the 
street  to  the  other. 

A  little  while  after  the  mass  was  ended,  I 
heard  a  large  number  of  people  coming  from 
the  direction  of  the  market,  —  an  angry  and 
noisy  crowd.  In  the  mob,  and  striving  to 
quell  its  violence,  were  several  friars ;  but  it 
was  a  mob  of  men  deaf  to  the  voice  of  reason. 
They  were  yelling  themselves  hoarse,  and  as 
they  came,  they  dragged  along  a  victim  who 
was  powerless  to  free  himself  from  their  grasp. 

203 


Saragossa 

The  maddened  people  took  him  to  the  place 
near  the  entrance  of  the  Trenque  where  the 
gallows  was ;  and  in  a  few  moments  the  con- 
vulsed body  of  a  man  was  hanging  from  one 
of  its  ropes,  and  was  jerked  about  in  the  air 
until  it  was  lifeless.  On  the  wood  of  the 
gallows  an  inscription  soon  appeared,  which 
read,  — 

An  assassin 

of  human  k'lnd^ 

who 

kept  hack  twenty  thousand  beds. 

The  wretch  was  one  Fernando  Estello, 
watchman  of  a  storehouse  of  furniture.  When 
"the  sick  and  wounded  were  breathing  their  last 
in  the  gutters  and  on  the  cold  tiles  of  the 
churches,  there  was  found  a  great  collection  of 
beds  whose  hiding  the  watchman  Estello  could 
not  account  for.  The  wrath  of  the  populace 
was  not  to  be  restrained.  I  have  heard  that 
he  was  innocent.  Many  lamented  his  death  ; 
but  when  the  firing  in  the  trenches  began 
again,   no  one  remembered  him  more. 

Palafox  published  that  day  a  proclamation 

in  which   he   tried  to   raise  the  spirits  of  the 

soldiers,  promising  the  rank  of  captain  to  the 

man  who  should  bring  him  a  hundred  recruits, 

14  209 


Saragossa 

threatening  with  the  penalty  of  death  and  con- 
fiscation of  property  the  man  who  should  fail 
to  hasten  to  the  defence,  or  should  leave  the 
lines.  All  this  showed  great  distress  on  the 
part  of  the  commanding  officers.  That  day 
was  memorable  for  the  attack  on  Santa  Monica, 
which  the  volunteers  of  Huesca  were  defend- 
ing. During  the  greater  part  of  the  night  the 
French  had  been  bombarding  the  building. 
The  batteries  of  the  orchard  were  no  longer 
serviceable,  and  it  was  necessary  to  take  away 
the  cannon,  an  operation  performed  by  our 
valiant  men,  exposed  without  protection  to 
the  hostile  fire.  This  opened  a  breach  at  last ; 
and,  penetrating  into  the  orchard,  they  tried  to 
gain  possession  of  that  also,  forgetting  that 
they  had  twice  been  repulsed  on  previous  days. 
But  Lannes,  exasperated  by  the  extraordinary 
and  unprecedented  tenacity  of  the  Saragossans, 
had  given  orders  to  reduce  the  convent  to 
powder,  —  a  thing  which  was  easier  to  accom- 
plish with  the  cannon  and  howitzer  than  to  take 
it  by  storm.  At  all  events,  after  six  hours  of 
artillery  fire,  a  large  part  of  the  eastern  wall 
fell,  and  then  the  French  showed  their  exulta- 
tion, and,  without  loss  of  time,  rushed  forward 
to  seize  the  position,  aided  by  the  cross-fire 
from   the    Molino    in  the  city.     Seeing   them 

2IO 


Saragossa 

coming,  Villacampa,  commander  of  the  Huesca 
men,  and  Palafox,  who  had  hurried  to  the  point 
of  danger,  tried  to  close  up  the  breach  with 
sacks  of  wool  and  some  empty  musket-boxes. 
The  French,  reaching  the  spot,  made  a  mad, 
furious  assault,  but,  after  a  brief  hand-to-hand 
struggle,  they  were  repulsed.  During  the 
night  they  went  on  cannonading  the  convent. 

The  next  day  they  decided  to  make  another 
attack,  certain  that  no  mortal  could  defend 
that  skeleton  of  stone  and  brick  which  every 
moment  was  crumbling  to  the  earth.  They 
assailed  it  at  the  door  of  the  reception-room ; 
but  during  all  the  morning  they  did  not  con- 
quer a  hand's  breadth  of  earth  in  the  cloister. 

The  wall  of  the  eastern  side  of  the  convent 
fell  flat  to  the  earth  during  the  afternoon.  The 
third  floor,  which  was  very  much  weakened, 
could  not  hold  the  weight,  and  fell  upon  the 
second.  The  latter,  which  was  even  weaker, 
could  not  help  letting  itself  go  upon  the  first ; 
and  the  first,  incapable  of  sustaining  by  itself 
the  weight  of  the  whole  structure  above,  fairly 
poured  itself  out  over  the  cloister,  burying 
hundreds  of  men.  It  would  have  been  but 
natural  had  the  rest  been  intimidated  by  such 
a  catastrophe,  but  they  were  not.  The  French 
gained  possession  of  one  part  of  the  convent, 


211 


Saragossa 

but  not  of  all  ;  and,  in  order  to  gain  the  rest, 
they  were  obliged  to  clear  a  road  through  the 
ruins.  While  they  were  doing  this,  the  men 
of  Huesca  who  still  survived,  placed  them- 
selves in  the  stairway,  and  made  holes  through 
the  floor,  in  order  to  throw  hand-grenades 
against  the  besiegrers. 

Fresh  French  troops  were,  however,  able  to 
reach  the  church.  They  passed  over  the  roof 
of  the  convent,  and  spread  themselves  in  the 
interior;  they  descended  to  the  cloisters  and 
attacked  the  brave  volunteers.  Hearing  the 
noise  of  this  encounter,  those  below  plucked 
up  heart,  redoubled  their  energy,  and,  with  the 
loss  of  a  great  number  of  men,  succeeded  in 
reaching  the  stairway.  The  volunteers  found 
themselves  between  two  fires,  and  although  it 
was  still  possible  for  them  to  get  out  by  one  of 
the  two  openings  in  the  cloister,  almost  all  of 
them  swore  that  they  would  die  before  they 
would  surrender.  They  all  ran,  seeking  for 
a  strategic  point  which  would  permit  them 
to  defend  themselves  to  some  advantage  ;  but 
they  were  driven  the  length  of  the  cloisters, 
and  when  the  last  gun-shot  was  heard,  it  was 
the  signal  that  the  last  man  had  fallen.  A  few 
inside  the  building  were  able  to  get  out  by 
an  underground  door.     Don  Pedro  Villacampa, 

212 


Saragossa 

commander  of  the  Huesca  volunteers,  came 
out  into  the  city  that  way,  and  when  he  found 
himself  in  the  street,  he  turned,  looking  about 
mechanically  for  his  boys. 

During  this  fight  we  were  in  the  houses 
about  the  Calle  de  Palomar,  firing  upon  the 
French  detachment  sent  to  assault  the  convent. 
Before  the  battle  was  over,  we  learned  that 
defence  was  no  longer  possible  in  Las  Monicas. 
Don  Jose  de  Montoria  himself,  who  was  with 
us,  confessed  it. 

"  The  volunteers  of  Huesca  have  not  borne 
themselves  badly,"  he  said.  "  They  are  known 
to  be  good  fellows.  Now  we  must  busy  our- 
selves defending  these  houses  on  the  right.  I 
do  not  suppose  that  one  is  left.  There  goes 
Villacampa  alone.  Then  are  not  those  Men- 
dieta,  and  Paul,  Benedicto,  and  Oliva?  Let 
us  go.  I  see  that  indeed  none  are  left  in  that 
place." 

In  this  way  the  convent  of  Las  Monicas 
passed  into  the   hands  of  the    French. 


213 


CHAPTER   XXI 

N  reaching  this  point  in  my  story,  I  beg 
the  reader  to  pardon  me  if  I  do  not 
give  the  dates  exactly  of  that  which  I  relate. 
In  this  period  of  horror,  lasting  from  January  27 
to  the  middle  of  the  next  month,  the  successive 
events  are  so  confused,  so  mixed  up,  so  run 
together  in  my  mind,  that  I  cannot  distinguish 
days  and  nights,  and,  in  some  instances,  I  do 
not  know  whether  certain  skirmishes  of  those  I 
recall  took  place  in  daylight.  It  seems  to  me 
that  all  happened  during  one  long  day,  or  in 
one  endless  night,  and  that  time  was  not  then 
marked  by  its  ordinary  divisions.  Many  sen- 
sations and  impressions  are  linked  together  in 
my  memory,  forming  one  vast  picture  where 
there  are  no  more  dividing  lines  than  those 
that  the  events  themselves  offer,  —  the  greater 
fright  of  one  moment,  the  unexplained  panic  or 
fury  of  another. 

For  this  reason  I  cannot  tell  exactly  on  what 
day  that  took  place  which  I  am  going  to  relate 
now ;  but  if  I  am  not  mistaken  it  was  on  a  day 

214 


Saragossa 

after  the  fight  at  Las  Monicas,  and  somewhere, 
I  should  say,  between  the  thirtieth  of  January 
and  the  second  of  February.  We  were  occupy- 
ing a  house  in  the  Calle  de  Pabostre.  The 
French  were  in  the  one  next  to  it,  and  were 
trying  to  advance  through  the  inside  of  the 
block  to  reach  the  Puerta  Quemada.  Nothing 
can  compare  with  the  incessant  activity  going 
on  there.  No  kind  of  warfare,  no  bloodiest 
battle  on  the  open  field,  no  sieges  of  a  plaza, 
nor  struggles  in  a  street  barricade  can  compare 
with  the  succession  of  conflicts  between  the 
army  of  an  alcove  and  the  army  of  a  drawing- 
room,  between  the  troops  that  occupy  one  floor 
and  those  which  guard  the  one  above  it. 

Hearing  the  muflled  blows  of  the  picks  at 
various  points,  not  knowing  from  what  direc- 
tion the  attack  might  come,  caused  us  some 
alarm.  We  went  up  into  attics  ;  we  descended 
into  cellars,  and  glued  our  ears  to  partition  walls; 
we  tried  to  learn  the  intentions  of  the  enemy 
according  to  the  direction  of  the  blows.  At 
last  we  noticed  that  the  partition  wall  was  being 
violently  shaken  near  the  very  place  where  we 
were  standing,  and  we  waited  fire  in  the  door- 
way, after  heaping  up  the  furniture  as  a  barri- 
cade.   The  French  opened  a  hole,  and  presently 

began   leaping   over   beams   and   broken   frag- 

215 


Saragossa 

merits,  showing  an  intention  of  driving  us  from 
the  place.  There  were  twenty  of  us,  fewer  of 
them,  and  they  evidently  did  not  expect  to  be 
received  in  such  fashion,  and  retreated,  return- 
ing soon  with  such  reinforcement  that  we  were 
in  great  danger,  and  obliged  to  retire,  leaving 
five  comrades  behind  the  furniture,  two  of 
them  dead.  In  the  narrow  passage  we  ran 
against  a  stairway  up  which  we  hurried  without 
knowing  where  we  were  going,  and  presently 
found  ourselves  in  a  garret,  —  an  admirable  po- 
sition for  defence.  The  stairway  was  narrow, 
however,  and  the  Frenchmen  who  tried  to  come 
up  it  died  inevitably.  So  we  remained  for 
some  time,  prolonging  the  resistance,  and  en- 
couraging one  another  with  huzzas  and  shouts, 
when  the  partition  at  our  backs  began  to  re- 
sound with  loud  blows,  and  we  saw  immediately 
that  the  French,  by  opening  an  entrance  through 
there,  would  catch  us  between  two  fires  without 
means  of  escape.  We  were  now  thirteen,  as 
two  had  fallen  in  the  garret,  severely  wounded. 
Tio  Garces,  who  was  in  command,  shouted 
furiously :  "  By  heaven,  the  dogs  shall  not 
catch  us !  There 's  a  skylight  in  the  roof. 
Let  us  go  up  through  it  to  the  tiles  of  the  roof. 
Go  on  firing  at  whoever  comes  up  to  try  and 
cut  through  it !     The  rest  of  you  enlarge  the 

216 


Saragossa 

hole.     Away  with  fear,  and  viva  the  Virgin  del 
Pilar !  " 

It  was  done  as  he  commanded.  This  was  to 
be  a  well-ordered  retreat,  according  to  the  rules 
of  war ;  and  while  part  of  our  army  was  pre- 
venting the  onward  march  of  the  enemy,  the 
rest  were  occupied  in  facilitating  the  retreat. 
This  able  plan  was  put  into  execution  with 
feverish  activity,  and  very  soon  the  hole  of 
escape  was  large  enough  for  three  men  to  pass 
through  at  once,  without  the  French  gaining 
a  single  step  during  the  time  that  we  were  em- 
ployed in  this  way.  We  quickly  got  out  on 
the  roof.  We  were  now  nine.  Three  had 
been  left  in  the  garret,  and  another  was  wounded 
in  trying  to  get  out,  falling  still  alive,  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  On  finding  ourselves 
outside,  we  leaped  for  joy.  We  cast  a  glance 
over  the  roofs  of  the  quarter,  and  saw  at  a 
distance  the  batteries  of  the  French.  We 
advanced  on  all  fours  for  a  good  distance, 
exploring  the  lay  of  the  land,  leaving  two  sen- 
tinels in  the  gap  to  pop  off  a  gun  at  any  one 
who  should  seek  to  slip  up  by  them.  We  had 
not  gone  twenty  paces  when  we  heard  a  great 
noise  of  voices  and  laughter  which  seemed  to 
us  to  be  French.  And  so  it  was ;  from  a 
broad  balcony  those  rascals  were  looking  at  us 

217 


Saragossa 

and  laughing.  They  were  not  slow  in  firing 
upon  us,  but  protected  behind  the  chimneys, 
the  angles  and  corners  which  the  roof  afforded, 
we  answered  them  shot  for  shot,  and  replied  to 
their  oaths  and  exclamations  by  a  thousand 
other  invectives  with  which  the  lively  imagina- 
tion of  Tio  Garces  inspired  us.  At  last  we 
retreated,  jumping  to  the  roof  of  the  next 
house.  We  believed  it  to  be  in  the  hands  of 
our  own  men,  and  we  entered  by  the  window 
of  a  little  upper  room,  supposing  that  the  de- 
scent from  there  to  the  street  would  be  easy, 
and  that  there  we  should  be  reinforced  for  the 
conclusion  of  the  adventure  that  had  carried  us 
through  passages,  up  stairways,  through  gar- 
rets, and  over  roofs.  But  we  had  scarcely  set 
foot  there,  when  we  heard  in  the  apartment 
below  us  the  sound  of  many  blows  on  the 
wall. 

"They  are  beating  in  there,"  said  Tio 
Garces,  and  in  a  second  the  French  whom  we 
had  left  in  the  house  next  us  had  passed  to  this 
one,  where  they  met  comrades. 

"  Cuerno  !  Recuerno  !  Let  us  get  out  of 
this  !     The  whole  creation  's  down  below  there." 

We  passed  on  into  another  garret,  and  found 
our  way  to  a  ladder  leading  down  to  a  large  in- 
terior room,  from  whose  doorway  came  the  lively 

218 


Saragossa 

sound  of  voices,  chiefly  those  of  women.  The 
noise  of  the  fight  seemed  much  further  off, 
and  we  decided  it  must  be  at  some  distance. 
So  we  dropped  down  the  ladder  and  found 
ourselves  in  a  large  room  filled  with  old  men, 
women,  and  children  who  had  all  sought  refuge 
here.  Many,  lying  upon  rude  mattresses, 
showed  in  their  faces  traces  of  the  terrible 
epidemic,  and  one  lifeless  body  lay  on  the 
floor,  breath  evidently  having  left  it  but  a  few 
moments  before.  Some  were  wounded,  suffer- 
ing cruelly  and  groaning  unrestrainedly  ;  two  or 
three  old  women  were  weeping  and  praying. 
Occasionally  voices  were  heard  begging,  "Water, 
water  !  "  From  where  we  entered,  I  saw  Can- 
diola  at  the  end  of  the  room,  carefully  deposit- 
ing in  a  corner  a  quantity  of  clothes  and 
kitchen  utensils  and  crockery.  With  an  angry 
gesture  he  drove  away  the  curious  children  who 
wished  to  look  over  and  handle  the  poor  stuff. 
Anxious,  eager  only  to  heap  together  and  guard 
his  treasures  without  losing  a  fragment,  he  was 
saying,  — 

"  I  have  already  lost  two  cups.  And  I 
have  no  doubt  whatever  as  to  what  has  become 
of  them.  Some  one  of  these  people  has  taken 
them.     There  is  no  security  anywhere ;  there 

are  no  authorities  to  guarantee  to  a  citizen  the 

219 


Saragossa 

possession  of  his  property.  Out  of  here,  you 
unmannerly  boys  !  Oh,  we  are  hard  pushed  ! 
Cursed  be  the  bombs  and  the  one  who  invented 
them  !  Soldiers,  you  have  come  in  good  time. 
Can  you  not  have  two  sentinels  placed  here 
for  me  to  guard  these  treasures  which  I  have 
been  able  to  save  only  with  great  trouble  ?  '* 

My  comrades  laughed  at  such  pretension, 
as  may  readily  be  believed.  We  were  just 
about  to  go,  when  I  saw  Mariquilla.  The 
poor  girl  was  sadly  changed  from  lack  of  sleep, 
much  weeping,  and  the  constant  alarms.  But 
the  trouble  of  her  brow,  and  that  which  looked 
forth  from  her  eyes,  only  added  to  the  sweetness 
of  expression  of  her  beautiful  face.  She  saw 
me,  and  immediately  came  eagerly  up  to  me, 
showing  that  she  wished  to  speak  with  me. 

"  And  Augustine  ? ''  I  asked  her. 

"  He  is  down  there,"  she  replied  in  tremu- 
lous tones.  "  They  are  fighting  below.  We 
who  took  refuge  in  this  house  have  been  ap- 
portioned to  different  rooms.  My  father  came 
this  morning  with  Dona  Guedita.  Augustine 
brought  us  something  to  eat,  and  put  us  in  a 
room  where  there  was  a  mattress.  Suddenly  we 
heard  blows  on  the  partition  walls.  The  French 
were  coming.  The  troops  entered,  and  made 
us  leave,  carrying  the  sick  and  wounded  to  an 

220 


Saragossa 

upper  room.  They  shut  us  all  in,  and  then 
the  walls  were  broken  through.  The  French 
met  the  Spaniards  then,  and  began  real  fighting. 
Yes,  Augustine  is  below." 

She  was  saying  this  when  Manuela  Sancho 
came,  carrying  two  pitchers  of  water  for  the 
wounded.  The  poor  wretches  threw  them- 
selves from  their  beds,  disputing  even  to  blows 
over  the  water. 

"No  pushing,  no  scrambling,  senors!"  said 
Manuela,  laughing.  "  There  is  water  enough 
for  all.  Our  side  is  winning.  It  has  cost 
a  little  labor  to  drive  the  French  from  the 
alcove,  and  now  they  are  disputing  half  of 
the  hall,  having  gained  one  half  of  it.  They 
do  not  wish  to  leave  us  a  kitchen  or  a  stair- 
case. The  whole  place  is  filled  with  the 
dead." 

Mariquilla  turned  pale  with  the  horror  of  it. 

"  I  am  thirsty,"  she  said  to  me. 

I  immediately  tried  to  get  some  water  for 
her  from  Manuela  ;  but  as  the  last  glass  she 
had  was  in  use,  quenching  soldiers*  thirst,  as 
she  went  from  mouth  to  mouth  with  it,  I  took, 
in  order  to  lose  no  time,  one  of  the  cups  which 
Candiola  had  in  his  pile. 

"  Eh,  you  meddler,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
fist  at  me,  "  leave  that  cup  here." 

221 


Saragossa 

"  I  am  getting  it  to  give  water  to  the  seno- 
rita,"  I  answered  indignantly.  "  Are  these 
things  so  valuable,  Senor  Candiola  ?  " 

The  miser  did  not  reply,  but  did  not  oppose 
my  giving  his  daughter  a  drink.  After  her 
thirst  was  quenched,  a  wounded  soldier  reached 
out  his  hands  eagerly  for  the  cup,  and,  lo  ! 
it  began  to  go  the  rounds  also,  passing  from 
mouth  to  mouth.  When  I  went  to  wait  upon 
my  comrades,  Don  Jeronimo  followed  me  with 
his  eyes,  and  watched  with  bad  grace  the  forced 
loan  that  was  so  slow  in  returning  to  his 
hands. 

Manuela  Sancho  was  right  in  saying  that  our 
side  was  winning.  The  French,  dislodged  from 
the  main  floor  of  the  house,  had  retired  to  the 
one  below,  where  they  continued  their  defence. 
When  I  descended,  all  the  interest  of  the 
battle  was  centred  in  the  kitchen,  disputed 
with  much  bloodshed,  but  the  rest  of  the  house 
was  in  our  power.  Many  bodies  of  French 
and  Spanish  covered  the  gory  floor.  Some 
soldiers  and  patriots,  furious  at  not  being  able 
to  conquer  that  dismal  kitchen,  whence  such  a 
fire  was  pouring,  hurled  themselves  forward 
into  it,  defending  themselves  with  their  bayo- 
nets ;  and  although  a  goodly  number  of  them 
perished,    their    courageous    act    decided    the 


222 


Saragossa 

matter,  for  behind  them  others  could  come, 
and  then  all  that  the  room  could  hold. 

The  Imperial  soldiers,  panic-stricken  with 
this  violent  assault,  looked  quickly  for  a  way 
out  of  the  house  which  had  been  taken  room 
by  room.  We  pursued  them  through  passages 
and  halls  whose  confused  arrangement  would 
craze  the  best  military  topographer.  We  fin- 
ished them  wherever  we  could  find  them,  and 
some  of  them  escaped,  dashing  in  desperation 
out  through  the  court-yards.  In  this  manner, 
after  reconquering  one  house,  we  reconquered 
the  next  one,  obliging  the  enemy  to  restrict 
themselves  to  their  old  positions,  which  were 
the  first  two  houses  of  the  Calle  de  Pabostre. 

Afterwards  we  removed  our  dead  and 
wounded,  and  I  had  the  sorrow  of  finding 
Augustine  Montoria  among  the  latter,  although 
the  gun-wound  in  his  right  arm  was  not  of  a 
serious  nature.  My  battalion  was  reduced 
one-half  that  day.  The  unfortunates  who  had 
sought  refuge  in  the  upper  room  now  wished 
to  make  themselves  a  little  more  comfortable 
in  the  lower  rooms ;  but  this  was  not  thought 
practicable,  and  they  were  obliged  to  leave 
the  place  and  look  for  an  asylum  further  from 
danger. 

Every  day,  every  hour,  every   instant,   the 

223 


Saragossa 

increasing  difficulties  of  our  military  situation 
were  aggravated  by  the  sight  of  the  great  num- 
ber of  unburied  victims  of  battle  and  of  the 
epidemic.  Happy  a  thousand  times  those  who 
were  buried  in  the  ruins  of  the  undermined 
houses,  as  happened  to  the  valiant  defenders 
of  the  Calle  de  Pomar,  close  to  the  Santa 
Engracia !  \  The  most  horrible  thing  was  a 
great  number  of  the  wounded  piled  up  to- 
gether, so  that  nobody  could  get  at  them  to 
help  them.  There  was  no  medical  aid  for  a 
hundredth  part  of  them.  The  charity  of 
women,  the  zeal  of  patriotic  citizens,  the  mul- 
tiplied activity  of  the  hospitals,  really  availed 
nothing. 

There  came  a  time  when  a  sort  of  impassi- 
bility, a  dreadful  apathy,  began  to  take  pos- 
session of  the  besieged.  We  became  used  to 
the  sight  of  a  heap  of  dead  bodies,  as  if  they 
were  so  many  sacks  of  wool.  We  were  accus- 
tomed to  see,  without  pity,  great  numbers  of 
the  wounded  creeping  and  tottering  to  the 
houses,  each  one  caring  for  himself  as  best  he 
could.  In  the  keenness  of  our  sufferings,' it 
seemed  as  if  the  usual  necessities  of  the  flesh 
had  gone,  and  that  we  lived  only  in  the  spirit. 
Familiarity  with  danger  had  transformed  our 
natures,  infusing  them   apparently  with  a  new 

224 


Saragossa 

element,  —  absolute  contempt  of  the  material, 
and  indifference  to  life.  Every  one  expected  to 
die  at  any  moment,  without  the  idea  disturbing 
him  in  the  least.  I  remember  hearing  de- 
scribed the  attack  on  the  Trinitarios  convent, 
made  in  the  hope  of  snatching  it  from  the 
French,  and  the  fabulous  exploits,  the  incon- 
ceivable rashness  of  that  undertaking  seemed 
to  me   natural   and  ordinary. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  have  said  that  next 
to  the  Convent  de  las  Monicas  was  that  of 
San  Augustine,  an  edifice  of  good  size,  with 
a  large  church,  spacious  cloisters,  and  vast 
transepts.  It  was  inevitable  that  the  French, 
now  masters  of  Las  Monicas,  should  show 
great  perseverance  in  the  effort  to  gain  pos- 
session of  this  monastery,  in  order  to  establish 
themselves  firmly  and  definitely  in  that  quarter. 

"  Since  we  have  not  the  luck  to  be  in  Las 
Monicas,"  said  Pirli  to  me,  "  we  will,  to-day, 
give  ourselves  the  pleasure  of  defending  until 
death  the  four  walls  of  Saint  Augustine.  As 
the  Estremadurans  are  not  sufficient  to  defend 
it,  we  are  ordered  in,  too.  And  how  about 
rank,  friend  Araceli  ^  Is  it  true  that  we  two 
young  gentlemen  have  been  promoted  to  be 
sergeants  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,  friend 
15  225 


Saragossa 

Pirll,"  I  answered ;  and  it  was  true  that  I  was 
ignorant  of  my  elevation  to  the  hierarchichal 
altitude  of  a  sergeant. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  the  general  says  so ;  Senor  de 
Araceli  is  first  sergeant,  and  Senor  de  Pirli  is 
second  sergeant.  We  have  worked  hard  enough 
for  it.  It 's  a  good  thing  we  have  enough  of 
our  bodies  left  to  hang  the  epaulets  on.  I 
heard  that  Augustine  Montoria  has  been  made 
a  lieutenant  for  his  gallantry  inside  the  houses. 
Yesterday,  at  nightfall,  the  battalion  of  Las 
Peiias  de  San  Pedro  was  reduced  to  four  ser- 
geants, a  lieutenant,  a  captain,  and  two  hun- 
dred men." 

"  Let  us  see,  friend  Pirli,  if  we  cannot  earn 
two  more  promotions  apiece  to-day." 

"  All  that  we  have  to  do  is  to  keep  our 
skins  whole,"  he  answered.  "  The  few  soldiers 
of  the  Huesca  battalion  who  survive  think 
that  they  are  all  going  to  be  made  generals. 
There  is  the  call !  Have  you  anything  to 
eat  ? " 

"  Not  much." 

"  Manuela  Sancho  gave  me  four  sardines.  I 
will  divide  them  with  you.  How  would  you 
like  a  dozen  of  these  roasted  peas  ?  Do  you 
remember  how  wine  tastes  ?  I  ask,  because  it 
is  so  many  days  since  they  have  given  us   a 

226 


Saragossa 

drop.  They  will  give  us  a  spoonful  when  the 
battle  of  San  Augustine  is  over.  Here  you 
are  !  It  would  be  too  bad  if  they  should 
finish  us  off  before  we  know  what  color  the 
stuff  is  which  they  are  going  to  pass  around 
to-night.  If  they  would  follow  my  advice,  ^ 
they  would  give  it  to  us  before  the  fight,  so 
that  those  who  drop  off  would  get  a  taste. 
But  the  committee  of  supplies  has  evidently 
said,  '  There  is  very  little  wine  ;  if  we  give  it 
out  now  there  will  scarcely  be  three  drops  to 
a  man.  We  will  wait  until  evening,  and  as  it 
will  be  a  miracle  if  a  fourth  part  of  those  who 
defend  San  Augustine  are  alive  then,  there 
will  be  at  least  one  swallow  apiece  for  the 
rest. 

He  followed  this  criticism  with  a  general 
discourse  upon  the  scarcity  of  provisions.  We 
did  not  have  time  to  indulge  ourselves  much 
on  that  topic,  for  we  had  scarcely  joined  the 
Estremadura  men  at  the  monastery,  when  a 
loud  report  warned  us  to  be  on  our  guard  ; 
then  a  friar  appeared,  shouting  ,  — 

"  My  sons,  they  have  blown  up  the  middle 
walls  on  the  side  towards  Las  Monicas,  and 
they  are  already  in  the  building !  Run  to  the 
church.  They  must  have  seized  the  sacristy ; 
but  that  makes  no  difference.     If  you  go  in 

227 


Saragossa 


time,  you  will  be  masters 
the  chapels  and  the  choir. 
Virgin  del  Pilar,  and  the 
Estremadura  !'* 

We  marched  serenely  into  the  church. 


of  the    nave,  of 

Viva   the    Holy 

battalion    of   the 


228 


CHAPTER   XXII 

THE  good  fathers  encouraged  us  with 
their  exhortations,  and  some  of  them, 
mingling  with  us  in  the  most  dangerous  places 
in  the  ranks,  said  to  us,  — 

"  My  sons,  do  not  be  discouraged.  Fore- 
seeing this  event  we  have  saved  moderate 
quantities  of  food,  and  we  have  wine  also. 
Give  this  mob  plenty  of  powder  !  Courage, 
dear  boys  !  Do  not  be  afraid  of  the  enemy's 
lead.  You  do  more  damage  with  one  of  your 
glances  than  they  with  a  discharge  of  lead. 
Forward,  my  sons  !  The  Holy  Virgin  del 
Pilar  is  with  you.  Don't  wince  at  danger ; 
face  the  enemy  calmly,  and  in  the  cloud  of 
battle  you  will  see  the  holy  form  of  the  Mother 
of  God.     Viva  Spain  and  Fernando  VII  !  " 

We  reached  the  church  ;  but  the  French,  who 
had  preceded  us  by  the  sacristy,  already  oc-' 
cupied  the  high  altar.  I  had  never  before  seen 
a  churrigueresque  altar  all  covered  with  sculp- 
tures and  garlands  of  gold,  serving  as  a  breast- 
work for  infantry ;  nor  had  I  ever  seen  niches 
which  served  as  the  lodging  places  of  a  thou- 
sand   carved    saints    vomiting    forth    fire.       I 

229 


Saragossa 

had  never  seen  the  rays  of  gilded  wood  which 
shed  their  changeless  light  from  pasteboard 
clouds  peopled  by  little  angels,  confused  with 
gun-flashes  ;  nor  behind  the  feet  of  Christ,  and 
back  of  the  golden  halo  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  the 
avenging  eyes  of  soldiers  taking  death-dealing 
aim. 

It  is  well  to  say  that  the  high  altar  of  San 
Augustine  was  an  enormous  one,  filled  with 
gilded  wooden  sculptures,  like  others  you  have 
seen  in  any  of  the  churches  of  Spain.  It  ex- 
tended from  the  floor  to  the  arch  above,  and 
from  wall  to  wall,  and  represented  in  row 
upon  row  the  celestial  hierarchies.  Above,  the 
blood-stained  Christ  spread  his  arms  upon  the 
cross  ;  below,  and  on  the  altar,  a  little  shrine 
enclosed  the  symbol  of  the  Eucharist.  Al- 
though the  whole  was  supported  by  the  ground 
and  the  walls,  there  were  little  interior  covered 
ways  destined  for  the  special  services  of  that 
republic  of  saints,  and  by  them  the  sacristan 
could  ascend  from  the  sacristy  to  change  the 
dress  of  the  Virgin,  to  light  the  candles  before 
the  highest  crucifix,  or  to  clean  the  dust  of  cen- 
turies from  the  antique  fabrics  and  painted 
wood  of  the  images. 

Well,  the  French  rapidly  gained  possession 
of  the    camarin  of  the   Virgin,  and    the    nar- 

230 


Saragossa 

row  passages  I  have  spoken  of.  When  we 
arrived,  from  behind  each  saint,  in  every  niche, 
gleamed  a  gun  barrel.  Established  thus  behind 
the  altar,  and  advancing  slowly  forward,  they 
were  preparing  to  take  all  of  this  upper  part  of 
the  church. 

We  were  not  entirely  unprotected ;  and  in 
order  to  defend  ourselves  from  the  altar-piece, 
we  occupied  the  confessionals,  the  altars  of  the 
chapels,  and  the  galleries.  Those  of  us  who 
were  most  exposed  were  in  the  central  nave ; 
and  while  the  more  daring  advanced  resolutely 
towards  the  altar,  others  of  us  took  positions 
in  the  lower  choir ;  and  from  behind  the  chor- 
ister's desk,  from  behind  chairs  and  benches 
which  we  piled  up  against  the  choir-screen,  we 
tried  to  dislodge  the  French  nation  from  its 
possession  of  the  high  altar. 

Tio  Garces,  with  others  as  brave,  ran  to 
occupy  the  pulpit,  another  churrigueresque 
structure  whose  sounding  board  was  crowned 
by  a  statue  of  Faith  which  reached  almost  to 
the  roof  They  mounted,  occupying  the  little 
stair  and  the  great  chair,  and  from  there,  by  a 
singular  chance,  they  shut  up  every  Frenchman 
who  dared  to  show  his  head  in  that  direction. 
They  also  suffered  great  loss,  for  the  men  in 
the  altar  were  much  annoyed  by  the  pulpit,  and 

231 


Saragossa 

tried  hard  to  get  that  obstacle  out  of  their  way. 
At  last  some  twenty  Imperials  came  out,  evi- 
dently bent  upon  reducing  at  all  hazards  that 
wooden  redoubt  without  whose  possession  it 
was  madness  to  attempt  to  come  out  into  the 
broad  nave.  I  have  never  seen  anything  more 
like  a  great  battle,  and  as  in  that  the  attention 
of  both  armies  is  concentrated  upon  one  point, 
the  most  eagerly  disputed  of  all,  whose  loss  or 
conquest  decides  the  outcome  of  the  struggle, 
so  the  attention  of  all  was  now  directed  to  the 
pulpit,  so  well  defended  and  so  well  attacked. 
The  twenty  had  to  resist  a  sharp  fire  from  us 
in  the  choir,  and  the  hand-grenades  which  were 
thrown  at  them  from  the  galleries.  But  in  spite 
of  great  loss,  they  advanced  resolutely,  bayonets 
fixed,  upon  the  pulpit  stairway.  The  ten  de- 
fenders of  the  fortress  were  not  intimidated, 
and  defended  themselves  with  empty  guns, 
with  the  unfailing  superiority  which  they  always 
showed  in  that  kind  of  conflict.  Many  of  our 
men  who  were  firing  from  the  chapel  altars  and 
the  confessionals,  ran  to  attack  the  French  with 
their  swords,  representing  in  that  way,  in  min- 
iature, conditions  of  a  rude  field  battle ;  the 
contest  was  waged,  man  to  man,  with  bayonet- 
thrusts,  guns,  and  blows  as  each  one  met  his 
adversary. 

232 


Saragossa 

The  enemy  was  reinforced  from  the  sacristy, 
and  our  rear-guard  also  came  out  of  the  choir. 
Some  who  were  in  the  gallery  on  the  right 
jumped  upon  the  cornice  of  a  great  reredos  at 
one  side,  and  not  satisfied  with  firing  from 
there,  threw  down  upon  the  French  three 
statues  of  saints  that  capped  its  three  angles. 
Meantime  the  pulpit  was  still  held  bravely,  and 
in  that  hell  of  fiame  I  saw  Tio  Garces  stand- 
ing erect,  directing  the  men,  and  looking  like  a 
preacher  screaming  impudently  with  a  hoarse 
voice.  If  I  should  ever  see  the  devil  preaching 
sin,  standing  on  the  great  chair  in  the  pulpit 
of  a  church  invaded  by  all  the  other  demons 
of  hell  in  hideous  riot,  it  would  not  especially 
attract  my  attention  after  that.  ^f  .^   ^ 

This  could  not  last  long ;  and  Tio  Garces 
presently  fell,  screaming  hoarsely,  pierced  by  a 
hundred  balls.  The  French,  who  had  poured 
up  by  way  of  the  sacristy,  now  advanced  in  a 
closed  column,  and  in  the  three  steps  which  sepa- 
rated the  presbytery  from  the  rest  of  the  church, 
offered  us  a  wall-like  defence.  When  this 
column  fired,  the  question  of  the  pulpit  was 
instantly  settled,  and  having  lost  one  out  of 
every  five  of  our  men,  leaving  a  large  number  of 
our  dead  upon  the  tiles  of  the  floor,  we  retreated 
to  the  chapels.     The  first  defenders  of  the  pul- 

233 


Saragossa 

pit,  those  who  had  gone  to  reinforce  them,  and 
Tio  Garces  also,  were  picked  up  on  bayonets, 
pierced  through  and  tossed  over  the  redoubt. 
So  died  that  great  patriot  unnamed  In  history. 
The  captain  of  our  company  remained  hfe- 
less  also  upon  the  pavement.  We  retired  In 
disorderly  fashion  to  various  points  separated 
from  one  another,  not  knowing  who  would 
command  us.  Indeed,  the  Initiative  of  each 
one,  or  of  each  group  of  two  or  three,  was  the 
only  organization  then  possible,  and  no  one 
thought  of  companies  or  of  military  rank.  All 
were  obedient  to  one  common  purpose,  and 
showed  a  marvellous  Instinctive  knowledge  of 
rudimentary  strategy  which  the  exigencies  of  the 
struggle  demanded  at  every  moment.  This 
instinctive  insight  made  us  understand  that  we 
were  lost  from  the  time  that  we  got  into  the 
chapels  on  the  right,  and  it  was  rashness  to 
persist  In  the  defence  of  the  church  before  the 
great  numbers  of  the  French  who  now  occupied 
It.  Some  of  our  soldiers  thought  that  with  the 
benches,  the  images,  and  the  wood  of  an  old 
altar-piece,  which  could  easily  be  broken  to 
pieces,  we  ought  to  raise  a  barricade  In  the 
arch  of  our  chapel,  and  defend  ourselves  to  the 
last ;  but  two  Augustine  fathers  opposed  this 
useless  effort. 

234 


Saragossa 

"  My  sons,  do  not  trouble  yourselves  to 
prolong  the  resistance  which  will  only  destroy 
you,  and  give  our  side  no  advantage,"  said  one 
of  them.  "  The  French  are  attacking  this  mo- 
ment by  the  Calle  de  las  Arcades.  Hasten 
there,  and  sec  if  you  can  not  harass  them  ;  but 
do  not  imagine  that  you  can  defend  the  church 
profaned  by  these  savages." 

These  exhortations  decided  us  to  leave  the 
church.  Some  of  the  Estremadura  men  re- 
mained in  the  choir,  exchanging  shots  with  the 
French,  who  now  filled  the  nave.  The  friars 
only  half-fulfilled  their  promise  of  giving  us 
something  for  which  to  sing  "  Gaudeamus^ 
As  a  recompense  for  having  defended  their 
church  to  the  last  extreme,  they  were  giving 
us  some  bits  of  jerked  beef  and  dry  bread, 
without  our  seeing  or  smelling  the  wine  any- 
where, in  spite  of  our  straining  our  eyes  and 
our  nostrils.  But  to  explain  this,  they  said 
that  the  French,  occupying  all  the  upper  part, 
had  possession  of  all  the  principal  storehouse 
of  provisions.  Lamenting  this,  they  tried  to 
console  us  with  praises  of  our  good  behavior. 

The  failure  of  the  wine  made  me  remember 
the  great  Pirli.  I  happened  to  recollect  that 
I  had  seen  him  at  the  beginning  of  the  battle. 
I  asked  for  him,  but  nobody  could  account  for 

235 


Saragossa 

his  disappearance.  The  French  occupied  the 
church,  and  also  some  of  the  upper  part  of  the 
convent.  In  spite  of  our  unfavorable  position 
below,  we  were  resolved  to  go  on  resisting ;  and 
we  bore  in  mind  the  heroic  conduct  of  the  vol- 
unteers of  Huesca,  who  defended  Las  Monicas 
until  they  were  buried  beneath  its  ruins.  We 
were  maddened,  and  believed  ourselves  dis- 
graced if  we  did  not  conquer.  We  were  im- 
pelled to  these  desperate  struggles  by  a  hidden, 
irresistible  force  which  I  cannot  explain  except 
as  the  strong  tension  and  spiritual  exaltation 
springing  from  our  aspirations  towards  the 
ideal. 

An  order  from  outside  stopped  us,  dictated 
doubtless  by  the  practical  good  sense  of  Gen- 
eral Saint  March. 

"  The  convent  cannot  be  held,'*  it  was  said. 
"  Instead  of  sacrificing  men  with  no  advantage 
to  the  city,  let  all  go  out  to  defend  the  points 
attacked  in  the  Calle  de  Pabostre,  and  the 
Puerta  Quemada,  where  the  enemy  are  trying 
to  advance,  conquering  houses  from  which  they 
have  been  repulsed  various  times." 

We  therefore  left  San  Augustine.  While  we 
were  passing  through  the  street  of  the  same  name, 
parallel  with  the  Calle  de  Palomar,  we  saw  that 
they  were  throwing  hand-grenades  among  the 


Saragossa 

French  established  in  a  little  opening  near  the 
latter  of  these  two  streets.  Who  was  throwing 
those  projectiles  from  the  tower  ?  In  order  to 
tell  it  more  briefly,  and  with  greatest  eloquence, 
let  us  open  the  history  and  read :  "  In  the 
tower  six  or  eight  peasants  had  placed  them- 
selves, having  provided  themselves  with  pro- 
visions and  ammunition  to  harass  the  enemy. 
They  continued  to  hold  it  for  some  days  with- 
out being  willing  to  surrender.'* 

There  was  the  glorious  Pirli  !  Oh,  Pirli, 
more  happy  than  Tio  Garces,  thou  dost 
occupy  a  place  in  history ! 


237 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

INCORPORATED  into  the  battalion  of 
Estremadura,  we  went  along  the  Calle  de 
Palomar  into  the  Plaza  de  la  Magdalena,  whence 
we  could  hear  the  roar  of  battle  at  the  end  of 
the  Calle  de  Puerta  Quemada.  As  we  have 
said,  the  enemy  tried  to  take  the  Calle  de 
Pabostre  in  order  to  get  possession  of  Puerta 
Quemada,  an  important  point  whence  they 
could  rake  with  their  artillery  the  street  of  the 
same  name  towards  the  Plaza  de  la  Magdalena. 
As  the  possession  of  San  Augustine  and  Las 
Monicas  permitted  them  to  threaten  that  cen- 
tral point  by  the  easy  way  to  the  Calle  de 
Palomar,  they  already  considered  themselves 
masters  of  the  suburb.  In  fact,  if  those  in 
San  Augustine  managed  to  advance  to  the 
ruins  of  the  Seminary,  and  those  of  the  Calle 
de  Pabostre  to  the  Puerta  Quemada,  it  would 
be  impossible  to  dispute  with  the  French  the 
quarter  of  Las  Tenerias. 

After  a  short  time  they  took  us  to  the  Calle 
de  Pabostre,  and  as  the  battle  of  the  outside 
and  inside  of  the  buildings  and  of  the  public 

238 


Saragossa 

way  was  now  all  combined,  we  entered  the  first 
block  by  the  Calle  de  los  Viejos.  From  the 
windows  of  the  house  in  which  we  found 
ourselves,  we  could  see  nothing  but  smoke,  and 
could  tell  but  little  of  what  was  going  on  there. 
I  saw  later  that  the  street  was  all  filled 
with  embrasures  and  trenches  at  certain  dis- 
tances made  of  heaps  of  earth,  furniture,  and 
rubbish.  From  the  windows  a  tremendous  fire 
was  poured  forth,  and,  remembering  a  phrase 
of  the  beggar  Sursum  Corda,  I  can  say  that 
our  souls  were  turned  into  bullets.  Inside  the 
houses  the  blood  flowed  in  torrents.  The 
onset  of  the  French  was  terrible,  and  that  the 
resistance  might  not  be  less  terrible  the  belfries 
summoned  men  unceasingly.  The  general 
dictated  stern  orders  for  the  punishment  of 
stragglers.  The  friars  rallied  the  people  of 
other  districts,  dragging  them  forward  as  in 
a  leash.  Some  heroic  women  set  an  example, 
throwing  themselves  into  danger,  guns  in  hand. 
A  dreadful  day,  whose  frightful  roar  re- 
sounds ever  in  the  ears  of  him  who  was  present ! 
Its  remembrance  pursues  him,  an  unescaped 
nightmare,  through  his  whole  life.  He  who 
did  not  see  these  horrors,  who  did  not  hear 
the    noise  of  that    shouting,   knows  not  with 

what  expression  the  depths  of  the  horrible  may 

239 


/ 


Saragossa 

be  uttered  to  human  feeling.  Do  not  tell 
me  that  you  have  seen  the  crater  of  a  vol- 
cano in  the  most  violent  eruption  ;  or  a  great 
tempest  in  the  open  ocean  when  the  ship, 
tossed  to  heaven  on  a  mountain  of  waterfalls, 
descends  next  to  a  giddy  depth,  —  do  not  tell  me 
you  have  seen  these  things,  for  they  are  nothing 
at  all  like  the  volcanoes  and  tempests  of  man 
when  his  passions  urge  him  to  out-rival  the  dis- 
orders in  Nature. 

It  was  difficult  to  hold  us  back,  and  not 
being  able  to  do  much  where  we  were,  we 
descended  to  the  street  without  noticing  the 
officers  who  tried  to  hold  us  back.  The  com- 
bat had  an  irresistible  attraction  for  us,  and 
called  us  as  the  deep  calls  unto  a  man  who 
looks  down  upon  it  from  a  cliff.  I  have  never 
considered  myself  heroic  ;  but  it  is  certain  that 
in  those  moments  I  did  not  fear  death,  nor 
did  the  sight  of  catastrophes  terrify  me.  It 
is  true  that  heroism,  as  a  thing  of  the  moment, 
and  the  direct  child  of  inspiration,  does  not 
belong  exclusively  to  the  brave.  That  is  the 
reason  it  is  often  found  in  women  and 
cowards. 

I  will  not  go  into  the  details  of  those  strug- 
gles in  the  Calle  de  la  Pabostre.  They  were 
much  like  those  which  I  have  described  before. 

240 


Saragossa 

If  they  differed  in  any  respect,  it  was  in  their 
excess  of  constancy,  and  energy  raised  to  a 
height  where  the  human  ended  and  the  divine 
began.  Within  the  houses,  scenes  passed  like 
those  I  have  described  elsewhere,  but  with 
greater  carnage,  because  victory  was  believed 
more  certain.  The  advantage  the  men  of  the 
Empire  gained  in  one  place  they  lost  in 
another.  The  battles,  begun  in  the  attics, 
descended  step  by  step  to  the  cellars,  and  were 
finished  there  with  clubbed  muskets,  with  the 
advantage  always  on  the  side  of  our  peasants. 
The  tones  of  command  with  which  one  or 
another  directed  the  movements  within  these 
labyrinths  resounded  from  room  to  room  with 
fearful  echoes.  They  used  their  artillery  in 
the  street,  and  we  did  also.  Often  they  tried 
to  get  possession  of  our  pieces  by  sudden  hand- 
to-hand  struggles ;  but  they  lost  many  men 
without  ever  succeeding. 

Alarmed  on  seeing  that  the  force  used  at 
one  time  to  gain  a  battle  was  not  now  sufficient 
to  gain  two  yards  of  a  street,  they  refused  to 
fight,  and  their  officers  drove  them  forward, 
beating  their  laziness  out  of  them  with  cudgels. 
On  our  side  such  measures  were  not  necessary; 
persuasion  was  enough.  The  priests,  without 
neglecting  the  dying,  attended  to  everything. 
i6  241 


Saragossa 

If  they  saw  a  weakening  anywhere,  they  would 
hasten  to  tell  the  officers. 

In  one  of  the  trenches  in  the  street,  a  woman, 
bravest  of  all,  Manuela  Sancho,  after  having 
fired  with  a  gun,  began  serving  cannon  number 
eight.  She  remained  unhurt  all  day,  encour- 
aging all  with  brave  words,  —  an  example  to  the 
men.  It  was  perhaps  three  o'clock  when  she 
fell,  wounded  in  the  leg,  and  during  a  long 
time  was  supposed  to  be  dead,  because  the 
hemorrhage  made  her  seem  lifeless  ;  she  looked 
like  a  corpse.  Later,  seeing  that  she  breathed, 
we  carried  her  to  the  rear,  and  she  was  restored, 
and  had  such  good  health  afterwards  that  many 
years  later  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her 
still    alive. 

History  has  not  forgotten  that  brave  young 
Maid  of  Saragossa.  The  Calle  de  Pabostre, 
whose  poor  houses  are  more  eloquent  than 
the  pages  of  a  book,  now  bears  the  name  of 
Manuela  Sancho. 

A  little  after  three  o'clock,  a  tremendous 
loud  explosion  shook  the  houses  which  the 
French  had  disputed  with  us  in  such  a  bloody 
manner  during  the  morning.  Amid  the  dust, 
and  the  smoke  thicker  than  dust,  we  saw  walls 
and  roofs  falling  in  a  thousand  pieces,  with  a 
noise  of  which  I  can  give  no  idea.    The  French 

242 


.A 


Saragossa 

had  begun  to  employ  mines.  In  order  to  gain  '  \ 
that  which  they  could  In  no  other  way  wrench 
from  the  hands  of  the  sons  of  Aragon.  They 
opened  galleries  ;  they  charged  the  mines  ;  then 
the  men  folded  their  arms,  waiting  for  the 
powder  to  do   It  all. 

When  the  first  house  went,  we  stayed  quietly 
In  the  next,  and  In  the  street.  But  when  the 
second  went  with  a  still  louder  noise,  the  retreat 
began  with  plenty  of  disorder.  Considering 
that  so  many  unfortunate  comrades  were  hurled 
into  the  air  or  buried  beneath  the  ruins,  men 
who  had  been  unconquerable  by  force  of  arms, 
we  felt  ourselves  too  weak  to  contend  with  the 
new  element  of  destruction.  It  seemed  to  us 
that  in  all  the  other  houses,  and  In  the  street, 
horrible  craters  were  going  to  burst  forth  which 
would  send  us  flying,  torn  into  a  thousand 
bloody  fragments. 

The  officers  held  us  back,  calling,  — 

"  Courage,  boys,  stand  firm  !  That  Is  done 
to  frighten  us.  We  have  plenty  of  powder, 
too,  and  we  will  open  mines.  Do  you  think 
this  will  give  them  an  advantage  ?  On  the 
contrary,  we  shall  see  how  they  will  defend 
themselves  among  a  lot  of  fragments.'* 

Palafox  appeared  at  the  entrance  of  the 
street,  and  his  presence  restrained  us  for  some 

243 


Saragossa 

time.  The  noise  prevented  me  from  hearing 
what  he  was  saying,  but  by  his  gestures  I  un- 
derstood that  he  wished  us  to  go  on  over  the 
ruins. 

"  You  hear,  boys  !  You  hear  what  the 
Captain-General  says  !  "  a  friar  shouted  beside 
us,  one  of  those  who  had  come  with  Palafox. 
"He  says  that  if  you  will  make  a  little  exertion, 
not  one  Frenchman  will  be  left  alive.  You 
are  right !  "  cried  another  friar.  "  There  will 
not  be  a  woman  left  in  Saragossa  who  will 
even  look  at  you,  if  you  do  not  hurl  your- 
selves instantly  upon  those  ruins  of  the  houses, 
and  drive  the  French  out." 

"  Forward,  sons  of  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  !  ** 
cried  out  a  third  friar.  "  Do  you  see  those 
women  over  there  ?  Do  you  know  what  they 
are  saying  ?  They  are  saying  that  if  you  do 
not  go,  they  will  go  themselves.  Are  you  not 
ashamed  of  your  cowardice  ?  " 

With  that,  we  stood  up  a  little  more  bravely. 
Another  house  fell  on  the  right.  Palafox  came 
into  the  street.  Without  knowing  how  or 
why,  we  followed  him  when  he  put  himself  at 
our  head.  Now  is  the  time  to  speak  of  that 
high  personage  whose  name  and  fame  are  one 
with  that  of  Saragossa.  His  prestige  is  due 
in  large  measure  to  his  great  courage,  but  also 

244 


Saragossa 

to  his  noble  origin,  and  the  respect  in  which 
the  family  of  Lazan  has  always  been  held  in 
Saragossa,  and  to  his  handsome  and  spirited 
presence.  He  was  young.  He  had  belonged 
to  the  Guards.  He  was  much  praised  for  hav- 
ing refused  the  favors  of  a  very  highly-placed 
lady,  as  famous  for  her  position  as  for  scandals 
about  her.  That  which  endeared  the  Sara- 
gossan  leader  more  than  anything  else  to  his 
people  was,  however,  his  supreme,  his  indomit- 
able courage,  the  youthful  ardor  with  which  he 
attacked  the  most  dangerous  and  difficult 
obstacles,  simply  to  reach  his  ideals  of  honor 
and   glory. 

If  he  lacked  intellectual  gifts  to  direct  an 
undertaking  so  arduous  as  this,  he  had  the 
prudence  to  know  his  lack,  and  to  surround 
himself  with  men  distinguished  for  their  judg- 
ment and  wisdom.  These  men  did  every- 
thing. Palafox  was  the  great  figure-head,  the 
chief  actor  in  the  scene.  Over  a  people  so 
largely  ruled  by  imagination,  that  young  gen- 
eral could  scarcely  fail  to  hold  an  imperious 
dominion,  with  his  illustrious  lineage  and 
splendid  figure.  He  showed  himself  every- 
where, encouraging  the  weak,  and  distributing 
rewards  to  the  brave. 

The   Saragossans  beheld    in    him   the.  ,syni" 

'^-—-^'""^  245 


Saragossa 

bol  of  their  constancy,  their  virtues,  their 
patriotic  ideal  with  its  touch  of  mysticism,  and 
their  warlike  zeal.  Whatever  he  ordered, 
everybody  found  right  and  just.  Like  those 
monarchs  whom  traditional  laws  have  made  the 
personal  embodiment  of  government,  Palafox 
could  do  no  wrong.  Anything  wrong  was  the 
work  of  his  counsellors.  In  reality,  the  illus- 
trious commander  did  not  govern,  he  reigned. 
Father  Basilio  governed,  with  O'Neill,  Saint 
March,  and  Butron,  the  first,  an  ecclesiastic, 
the  other  three  noted  generals. 

In  places  of  danger,  Palafox  always  appeared 
like  a  human  expression  of  triumph.  His 
voice  reanimated  the  dying  ;  and  if  the  Virgin 
del  Pilar  had  spoken,  she  would  have  chosen 
no  other  mouth.  His  countenance  always  ex- 
pressed a  supreme  confidence.  In  his  trium- 
phal smile,  courage  overflowed,  as  in  others  it 
is  expressed  by  a  ferocious  frown.  He  was 
vain-gloriously  proud  of  being  the  prop  of 
that  great  hour  in  history.  He  understood 
instinctively  that  the  outcome  depended  more 
upon  him  as  an  actor  than  upon  him  as  a 
general.  He  always  appeared  in  all  the  splen-^ 
dors  of  his  uniform,  with  gold  lace,  waving 
plumes,  and  medals.  The  thundering  music 
of  applause,  of  huzzas,  flattered  him  extremely. 

246 


Saragossa 

«All-this  was  necessary.  Indeed  there  must 
always  be  something  of  mutual  adulation  be- 
tween the  army  and  the  commander-in-chief, 
in  order  that  the  pride  of  victory  may  inspire 
one  and  all  to  deeds  of  heroism. 


247 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

AS  I  have  said,  Palafox  pulled  us  together ; 
and  although  we  abandoned  almost  all 
of  the  Calle  de  Pabostre,  we  remained  strong 
in  the  Puerta  Quemada.  If  the  battle  was 
bloody  until  three,  the  hour  when  we  centred 
in  the  Plaza  de  la  Magdalena,  it  was  not  less 
bloody  there  until  night.  The  French  began 
to  raise  works  in  the  houses  ruined  by  the 
mines,  and  it  was  curious  to  see  how  among 
the  masses  of  rubbish  and  beams  small  armed 
squares  and  covered  ways  were  made  and  plat- 
forms to  connect  the  artillery.  That  was  a 
battle  which  every  moment  appeared  less  and 
less  like  any  other  known  warfare. 

From  this  new  phase  of  contest  resulted  an 
advantage  for  us  and  a  hindrance  for  the 
French.  The  demolition  of  the  houses  per- 
mitted them  to  place  some  new  pieces,  but  the 
men  were  unprotected.  To  our  misfortune, 
we  could  not  avail  ourselves  of  this  because 
of  the  explosions.  Fright  made  us  think  the 
danger    multiplied    a     hundredfold,    when     in 

248 


Saragossa 

reality  it  was  diminished.  Not  wishing  to  do 
less  than  they  in  that  fiery  duel,  the  Saragos- 
sans  beo:an  to  burn  the  houses  in  the  Calle  de 
Pabostre  which  they  could  not  hold. 

Besiegers  and  besieged,  desirous  of  coming 
to  an  end  of  this,  and  not  being  able  to  attain 
it  in  such  intricate  burrowing  warfare,  began 
to  destroy,  one  side  by  mining,  the  other  by 
burning,  remaining  unprotected  like  the  gladi- 
ator who  throws  away  his  shield. 

What  an  afternoon  !  What  a  night !  Arriv- 
ing here,  I  pause,  wearied  and  breathless.  My 
recollections  are  obscured,  dimmed  as  my 
thoughts  and  my  feelings  were  dimmed  on 
that  dreadful  night.  There  came  indeed  a 
moment  when  being  unable  to  resist  longer, 
my  body,  like  that  of  others  of  my  comrades 
who  had  the  fortune  or  misfortune  to  be  still 
alive,  dragged  itself  back  across  the  gutters, 
stumbling  over  unburied  bodies  that  seemed 
less  than  human  among  the  debris.  My  feel- 
ings had  flung  me  into  an  extreme  of  delirium, 
and  I  did  not  clearly  know  where  I  was.  My 
idea  of  living  was  a  confused,  vague  mix- 
ture of  unheard-of  miseries.  It  did  not  seem 
as  if  it  was  day,  because  in  so  many  places  the 
murk  hung  low,  obscuring  everything.  Nor 
could  I  think  it  night,  for  flam.es  like  those  we 

249 


Saragossa 

imagine  in  hell  reddened  the  city  on  every 
side. 

I  only  know  that  I  dragged  myself,  step- 
ping upon  bodies,  some  dead  and  some  still 
moving,  and  that  farther  on,  always  farther 
on,  I  thought  I  might  find  a  piece  of  bread 
and  a  mouthful  of  water.  What  horrible 
mental  dejection  !  What  hunger!  What  thirst  1 
I  saw  many  running  swiftly.  I  cried  out  to 
them.  I  saw  their  strange  shadows  throwing 
grotesque  figures  upon  the  neighboring  walls. 
They  were  going  and  coming,  I  know  not 
whence  nor  where.  I  was  not  the  only  one 
who,  with  body  and  soul  exhausted  after  so 
many  hours  of  fighting,  had  given  out  com- 
pletely. Many  others  who  had  not  the  steel 
nerves  of  the  Aragonese  were  dragging  them- 
selves along  like  myself,  and  we  begged  one 
another  for  a  little  water.  Some,  more  fortu- 
nate than  the  rest,  had  the  strength  to  look 
about  among  the  corpses  and  find  crusts  of 
rations  not  eaten,  fragments  of  meat,  cold  and 
dirty  on  the  ground,  which  they  devoured  with 
avidity. 

Somewhat  revived,  we  went  on  looking,  and 
I  took  my  part  of  the  tidbits  of  the  feast.  I 
did  not  know  if  I  was  wounded.  Some  of 
those  who  were  talking  with  me,  telling  me  of 

250 


Saragossa 

their  dreadful  hunger  and  thirst,  had  terrible 
wounds  and  burns  and  contusions.  At  last 
we  came  to  some  women  who  gave  us  water 
to  drink,  although  it  was  muddy  and  warm. 
We  disputed  over  the  jug,  and  then  in  the 
hands  of  one  of  the  dead  we  found  a  kerchief 
containing  two  dried  sardines  and  little  cakes. 
Encouraged  by  these  repeated  finds,  we  went  on 
pillaging,  and  at  last  the  little  which  we  were 
able  to  eat,  and,  more  than  anything  else,  the 
dirty  water  we  drank,  gave  us  back  a  little 
strength. 

I  now  felt  myself  able  to  walk  a  little,  al- 
though with  difficulty.  I  saw  that  my  clothing 
was  all  soaked  with  blood.  Feeling  a  lively 
smarting  in  my  right  arm,  I  supposed  that  I 
was  severely  wounded  ;  but  the  hurt  turned  out 
to  be  an  insignificant  contusion,  and  the  stains 
on  my  clothing  came  from  creeping  along 
through  the  pools  of  blood  and  mud. 

I  could  now  think  clearly  again.  I  could  see 
plainly,  and  could  hear  distinctly  the  shouts 
and  the  hurried  footsteps,  the  cannon-shots 
near  and  afar  in  dreadful  dialogue.  Their 
crashings  here  and  yonder  seemed  like  ques- 
tions and  replies. 

The  burning  went  on.  There  was  a  dense 
cloud  over  the  city  formed  of  dust  and  smoke, 

251 


Saragossa 

which,  with  the  splendor  of  the  flames,  revealed 
horrible  unearthly  scenes  like  those  of  dreams. 

The  mangled  houses,  with  their  windows  and 
openings  glaring  with  the  light  like  hellish 
eyes,  the  projecting  angles  of  the  smoking 
ruins,  and  the  burning  beams  formed  a  spectacle 
less  sinister  than  that  of  those  leaping  and  un- 
wearied figures  that  did  not  cease  to  move 
about  here  and  there,  almost  in  the  centre  of 
the  flames.  They  were  the  peasants  of  Sara- 
gossa, who  were  still  fighting  with  the  French, 
and  disputing  with  them  every  hand's  breadth 
of  this  hell. 

I  found  myself  in  the  Calle  de  Puerta  Que- 
mada.  That  which  I  have  described  was  seen 
by  looking  in  two  directions  from  the  Seminary, 
and  from  the  entrance  of  the  Calle  de  Pabostre. 
I  went  on  a  few  steps,  but  fell  again,  overcome 
by  fatigue.  A  priest,  seeing  me  covered  with 
blood,  came  up  to  me  and  began  to  talk  to  me 
of  the  future  life,  and  of  the  eternal  rewards 
destined  for  those  who  die  for  their  country. 
He  told  me  that  I  was  not  wounded  ;  but  that 
hunger,  weariness,  and  thirst  had  prostrated  me, 
and  that  I  seemed  to  have  the  early  symptoms 
of  the  epidemic.  Then  the  good  friar,  in  whom 
I  recognized  at  once  Father  Mateo  del  Busto, 
seated  himself  beside  me,  sighing  deeply. 

252 


Saragossa 

"  I  can  keep  up  no  longer.  I  believe  that  I 
am  going  to  die." 

"  Is  your  reverence  wounded  ? "  I  asked, 
seeing  a  linen  cloth  bound  upon  his  right  arm. 

"  YeSj  my  son.  A  ball  has  destroyed  my 
shoulder  and  arm.  I  am  in  the  greatest  pain, 
but  I  must  bear  it.  Christ  suffered  more  for 
us.  Since  daybreak  I  have  been  busy,  caring 
for  the  wounded  and  pointing  the  dying  to 
heaven.  I  have  not  rested  a  moment  for  six- 
teen hours,  nor  have  I  eaten  nor  drank  any- 
thing. A  woman  tied  this  linen  on  my  right 
arm,  and  I  went  about  my  work.  I  believe 
that  I  shall  not  live  long.  What  a  death ! 
My  God,  and  all  these  wounded  with  no  one 
to  take  care  of  them  !  But,  oh,  I  can  no  longer 
stand !  I  am  dying !  Have  you  seen  that 
trench  which  is  at  the  end  of  the  Calle  de  los 
Clavos  ?  Over  there  poor  Coridon  is  lying, 
lifeless,  the  victim  of  his  own  courage.  We 
were  passing  along  there  to  take  care  of  some 
of  the  wounded,  when  we  saw,  near  the  garden 
of  San  Augustine,  a  group  of  Frenchmen  who 
were  passing  from  one  house  to  another. 
Coridon,  whose  impetuous  blood  impelled  him 
to  the  most  daring  acts,  threw  himself  upon 
them.  They  bayoneted  him,  and  flung  him  in 
the  ditch.      How  many  victims  in  a  single  day, 

253 


Saragossa 

Araceli !  Indeed,  you  are  fortunate  in  not 
being  hurt.  But  you  will  die  of  the  epidemic, 
and  that  is  worse.  To-day  I  have  given  abso- 
lution to  sixty  who  were  dying  of  the  epidemic. 
I  give  it  to  you  also,  my  friend,  because  I  know 
you  have  committed  no  sins,  only  peccadilloes, 
and  that  you  have  borne  yourself  valiantly  in 
these  days.  How  is  it  ?  Do  you  feel  worse  ? 
Truly  you  are  yellower  than  these  corpses 
about  us.  To  die  of  the  epidemic  during  this 
horrible  siege  is  to  die  for  one's  country. 
Courage,  young  man!  Heaven  is  open  to  re- 
ceive you,  and  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  will  wel- 
come you  with  her  mantle  of  the  stars.  Life 
is  nothing.  How  much  better  it  is  to  die  hon- 
orably, and  to  gain  eternal  glory  by  the  suffer- 
ing of  a  day  !  In  the  name  of  God,  I  forgive 
you  your  sins  !  " 

Then  after  murmuring  the  prayer  appro- 
priate to  the  occasion,  he  blessed  me,  and  pro- 
nounced the  Ego  te  ahsolvo^  and  then  lay  down 
upon  the  ground.  He  looked  very  badly,  and 
although  I  did  not  call  myself  well,  I  thought 
myself  in  a  better  state  of  health  than  the  good 
friar.  That  was  not  the  only  time  when  the 
confessor  died  before  the  dying  one,  and  the 
physician  before  the  patient. 

I  spoke  to  Father  Mateo,  and  he  did  not 

254 


Saragossa 

answer  me,  except  with  piteous  moans.  I  went 
a  little  way  to  look  for  some  one  who  might 
be  able  to  help  him.  I  met  several  men  and 
women,  and  told  them,  "Father  Mateo  del 
Busto  is  over  there  and  cannot  move ; "  but 
they  took  no  notice  of  me  and  went  on.  Many 
of  the  wounded  called  upon  me,  begging  for 
aid  ;  but  I  took  no  notice  at  all  of  them.  Near 
the  Coso,  I  met  a  child  of  eight  or  ten  years, 
who  was  alone,  and  weeping  in  the  sorest  dis- 
tress. I  stopped  him.  I  asked  him  where  his 
parents  were,  and  he  pointed  to  a  place  near 
where  there  was  a  great  number  of  the  wounded 
and  dead.  Afterwards  I  met  the  same  child 
in  several  places,  always  alone  and  always  cry- 
ing aloud  very  bitterly.  No  one  cared  for 
him.  I  heard  no  questions,  but,  "  Have  you 
seen  my  brother  ? "  "  Have  you  seen  my 
son  ?  "  "  Have  you  seen  my  father  ?  "  But 
none  of  these  were  to  be  found  in  any  direc- 
tion. No  one  tried  to  take  any  of  the  wounded 
to  the  churches,  because  all  or  nearly  all  were 
crowded.  The  cellars  and  lower  rooms  which 
at  first  had  been  considered  good  places  of 
refuge,  were  now  infected  with  a  death-dealing 
atmosphere.  There  came  a  time  when  the 
best  place  for  the  wounded  was  in  the  middle 
of  the  street. 

255 


Saragossa 

I  directed  my  steps  towards  the  centre  of 
the  CosOj  because  they  said  that  there  they  were 
giving  out  something  to  eat,  but  I  received 
nothing.  I  was  returning  to  Las  Tenerias,  and 
at  last,  in  front  of  Almudi,  they  gave  me  a  little 
hot  food.  That  which  seemed  a  symptom  of 
the  epidemic  disappeared,  for  indeed  my  mal- 
ady was  only  of  the  sort  that  can  be  cured  with 
bread  and  wine.  I  remembered  Father  Mateo 
del  Busto,  and  with  some  others  went  to  help 
him.  The  unfortunate  old  man  had  not  moved, 
and  when  we  came  up,  and  asked  him  how  he 
found  himself,  he  answered  thus,  — 

"  What  is  it  ?  Has  the  bell  sounded  for 
matins  ?  It  is  early.  Leave  me  to  rest.  I 
find  myself  much  fatigued,  Father  Gonzalez. 
I  have  been  picking  flowers  in  the  garden  for 
sixteen  hours,  and  I  am  tired." 

In  spite  of  his  entreaty,  we  four  toolc*  him 
up ;  but  we  had  carried  him  only  a  short  dis- 
tance before  he  was  dead  in  our  arms. 

My  comrades  ran  to  the  front,  and  I  was 
preparing  to  follow  them,  when  I  happened  to 
see  a  man  whose  looks  attracted  my  attention. 
It  was  Candiola.  He  v/as  coming  out  of  a 
house  near  by  with  his  clothing  scorched, 
and  grasping  between  his  hands  a  fowl,  which 
cackled  at  being  held  captive.      I  stopped  him 

256 


Saragossa 

in  the  middle  of  the  street,  questioning  him 
about  his  daughter  and  Augustine.  He 
answered  me  in  a  very  disturbed  way,  — 

"My  daughter — I  do  not  know  —  there 
she  is  —  somewhere.  All,  all  !  1  have  lost 
all.  The  receipts,  the  receipts  were  burned. 
Fortunately  I  got  out  of  the  house,  and  as  I 
fled  I  came  upon  this  chicken  which,  like 
me,  was  flying  from  the  dreadful  flames.  Yes- 
terday, a  hen  was  worth  five  duros.  But  my 
receipts !  Holy  Virgin  del  Pilar,  and  thou, 
dear  little  Santo  Domingo  of  my  soul,  why 
have  ye  let  my  receipts  be  burned  ?  They, 
at  least,  might  have  been  saved.  Do  you  wish 
to  help  me  ^  The  tin  box  which  held  them  is 
still  there  pinned  down  under  a  great  beam. 
Where  can  you  find  half  a  dozen  men  for  me  ^ 
Good  God,  this  junta,  these  authorities,  this 
Captain-General,  what  are  they  thinking  of?  " 
And  he  went  on,  calling  out  to  the  passers-by, 
"  Eh,  peasant,  friend,  dear  man,  let  us  see  if 
we  cannot  lift  the  beam  which  has  fallen  into 
the  corner.  Oh,  friends,  put  down  that  dying 
man  you  are  carrying  to  the  hospital,  and  come 
and  help  me.  Oh,  pitiless  Saragossans,  how 
God  is  chastising  you  !  "  Seeing  that  none 
came  to  help  him,  he  went  into  the  house,  but 
came  out  again,  crying  out  in  desperation, 
'7  257 


_    Saragossa 

"  Already  it  is  too  late  to  save  anything ! 
Everything  is  on  fire.  Oh,  my  Virgin  del 
Pilar,  why  dost  thou  not  perform  a  miracle  for 
me  ?  Why  not  give  me  such  a  gift  as  that 
bestowed  upon  the  children  in  the  fiery  furnace 
of  Babylon,  so  that  I  could  go  into  the  teeth 
of  the  fire  and  save  my  receipts  !  " 


258 


CHAPTER    XXV 

PRESENTLY  he  seated  himself  upon  a  pile 
of  stones,  beating  his  brow  from  time  to 
time,  and  without  loosening  his  hold  of  the 
chicken,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  his  heart,  sigh- 
ing deeply.  I  questioned  him  again  about  his 
daughter,  desiring  to  hear  news  of  Augustine  ; 
and  he  said  to  me,  — 

"  I  was  in  that  house  in  the  Calle  de  Anon, 
where  we  moved  in  yesterday.  Everybody 
told  me  that  it  was  not  safe  there,  and  that  we 
had  much  better  be  in  the  middle  of  the  town ; 
but  it  does  not  suit  me  to  go  where  everybody 
else  comes,  and  the  place  that  I  prefer  is  the 
one  that  the  rest  abandon.  This  world  is  filled 
with  thieves  and  rascals.  It  is  better  that  I 
get  away  from  them.  We  managed  with  a 
lower  room  of  that  house.  My  daughter  is 
very  much  afraid  of  the  cannon,  and  wished 
to  go  elsewhere.  When  the  mines  began  to 
burst  under  the  neighboring  houses,  she  and 
Guedita  rushed  away,  terrified.  I  stayed  alone, 
thinking  of  the  danger  my  things  are  in  ;  and 
pretty  soon  some   soldiers  came  with   flaming 

259 


Saragossa 

torches  ready  to  set  fire  to  the  house.  Those 
wretched  cowards  would  not  give  me  time  to 
collect  my  things.  Far  from  pitying  my  con- 
dition, they  ridiculed  me.  I  hid  the  box  with 
my  receipts  for  fear  that  those  who  think  it  is 
stuffed  with  money  would  carry  it  off;  but  it 
was  impossible  to  stay  inside  long.  I  was 
surrounded  with  the  bright  flames,  and  choked 
with  the  smoke.  In  spite  of  everything,  I  in- 
sisted upon  trying  to  save  my  box ;  but  it  was 
an  impossible  thing.  I  had  to  run.  I  could 
not  take  anything.  Great  God  !  I  saved 
nothing  but  this  poor  creature,  forgotten  by 
its  owners  in  the  hen-house.  It  cost  me  a 
good  deal  of  trouble  to  catch  it.  I  burned 
one  hand  almost  all  over.  Oh,  cursed  be  he 
who  invented  fire !  Why  should  one  lose 
one's  fortune  to  amuse  these  heroes  !  I  had 
two  houses  in  Saragossa  besides  the  one  I  lived 
in.  One  of  them,  the  one  in  the  Calle  de  la 
Sombre,  is  preserved  to  me  still,  although  it  is 
without  tenants.  The  other,  which  was  called 
Casa  de  los  Duendes,  back  of  the  San  Fran- 
cisco is  occupied  by  the  troops,  and  everything 
there  has  been  torn  to  pieces  for  me.  Ruin, 
nothing  but  ruin  !  Is  it  a  right  thing  to  burn 
houses  merely  to  retard  the  conquest  by  the 
French  ?  " 

260 


Saragossa 

"  War  makes  it  necessary  to  do  these 
things,"  I  answered  him.  "  And  this  heroic 
city  desires  to  carry  her  defence  to  the  last 
extreme." 

"And  what  induces  Saragossa  to  wish  to 
carry  her  defence  to  the  last  extreme  ?  What 
good  does  it  do  to  the  dead  ?  You  may  talk 
to  them  of  glory,  of  heroism,  —  of  all  those 
notions.  Before  I  ever  come  back  to  live  in 
an  heroic  city,  I  would  go  to  a  desert.  I  con- 
cede that  there  should  be  a  certain  resistance, 
but  not  to  such  a  barbarous  extreme  as  this. 
It  is  true  the  burned  buildings  are  worth  little, 
perhaps  less  than  the  great  mass  of  charcoal 
which  will  result.  Don't  let  them  come  to 
me  with  their  foolish  talk.  Those  fat  sharpers 
are  already  planning  to  make  a  good  business 
out  of  the   carbon." 

This  made  me  laugh.  My  readers  must 
not  think  that  I  exaggerate,  since  he  said  all 
this  to  me  very  nearly  as  I  repeat  it ;  and  those 
who  have  the  misfortune  to  know  him  would 
most  readily  have  faith  in  my  veracity.  If 
Candiola  had  lived  in  Numantia,  it  would 
have  been  said  that  the  Numantines  were 
merchants  of  charcoal  mixed  with  heroes. 

"I  am  lost!  I  am  ruined  forever!"  he 
went  on,  crossing  his  hands  forlornly.     "Those 


Saragossa 

receipts  were  part  of  my  fortune.  How  am  I 
going  to  claim  the  amounts  without  any  docu- 
ments to  show,  and  when  almost  all  my  debtors 
are  dead,  and  lying  rotting  about  the  streets  ! 
I  said,  and  I  repeat  it,  those  who  have  made 
me  all  this  trouble  are  disobedient  to  God.  It 
is  a  mortal  sin  ;  it  is  an  unforgivable  offence 
to  let  themselves  be  killed  when  they  owe 
money  on  such  old  accounts  that  their  credi- 
tor will  not  be  able  to  collect  easily.  Paying 
up  is  very  hard  work ;  so  some  of  these  people 
say,  ^  Let  us  wall  ourselves  in  and  burn  with 
the  money.'  But  God  is  inexorable  with  this 
heroic  rabble,  and  to  chastise  them  He  will 
resurrect  them,  so  that  they  will  yet  have  to 
meet  the  constable  and  the  notary.  My  God, 
resurrect  them  !  Holy  Virgin  del  Pilar,  Santo 
Domingo  del  Val,  resurrect  them,  I  pray  1 " 

"And  your  daughter?"  I  asked  with  in- 
terest. "  Did  she  come  out  of  the  fire 
unharmed  ?  " 

"  Do  not  speak  of  her  to  me  as  my  daugh- 
ter! "  he  replied  sternly.  "  God  has  punished 
me  for  her  faults.  I  know  now  who  her  in- 
famous admirer  is.  Who  can  it  possibly  be, 
but  that  damned  son  of  Don  Jose  Montoria 
who  studied   to   be  a  priest !      Mariquilla  has 

confessed  it  to  me.     Yesterday  she  was  dress- 

262 


Sarao;ossa 

ing  a  wound  he  has  on  his  arm,  and  this  was 
done  before  me.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any- 
thing so  shameless  ?  " 

As  he  said  this.  Dona  Guedita,  who  was 
looking  anxiously  for  her  master,  came  up 
with  a  cup  containing  some  sort  of  nourishment. 
He  took  it  hungrily ;  and  then,  by  force  of 
entreaty,  we  succeeded  in  getting  him  away 
from  there,  taking  him  to  the  Organo  alley, 
where  his  daughter  had  taken  refuge,  in  a 
porch,  with  other  shelterless  ones.  After  growl- 
ing at  her  a  moment,  Candiola  went  on  into 
the  house,  followed  by  his  housekeeper. 

"  Where  is  Augustine  ?  "  I  asked  Mariquilla. 

"  He  was  here  a  moment  ago  ;  but  some  one 
came  to  tell  him  of  the  death  of  his  brother, 
and  he  has  gone.  I  heard  it  said  that  the 
family  is  in  the  Calle  de  las  Rufas." 

"  His  brother  is  dead  !  Don  Jose's  eldest 
son  ! 

"  So  they  said,  and  he  started  in  haste  and 
in  great  distress." 

Without  waiting  to  hear  more,  I  also  ran  to 
the  Calle  de  las  Rufas  to  do  everything  I  could 
to  help  in  their  trouble  the  generous  family  to 
which  I  owed  so  much.  Before  arriving  there, 
I  met  Don  Roque,  who,  with  tears  in  his  eyes^ 
came  up  to  speak  to  me. 

263 


Saragossa 

"  Gabriel/*  he  said,  "  God  has  laid  his  hand 
heavily  to-day  upon  our  good  friend." 

"  Is  it  the  eldest  son  who  is  dead,  Manuel 
Montoria  ?  " 

"  Yes,  and  that  is  not  the  only  trouble  of 
the  family.  Manuel  was  married,  as  you  know, 
and  had  a  son  four  years  of  age.  You  see  that 
group  of  women  ?  Well,  the  wife  of  Mon- 
toria's  poor  eldest  son  is  there  with  her  boy  in 
her  arms.  He  is  dying  of  the  epidemic,  and 
is  already  in  his  agony.  Is  it  not  a  horrible 
state  of  things  ?  There  is  one  of  the  first 
families  of  Saragossa  reduced  to  this  sad  con- 
dition, without  a  roof  to  cover  them,  in  want 
of  the  most  necessary  things.  That  unfortu- 
nate young  mother  was  in  the  street  all  night, 
exposed  to  the  weather  with  her  sick  child  in 
her  arms,  expecting  every  instant  that  he  would 
breathe  his  last.  After  all  it  is  better  to  be 
here  than  in  one  of  those  pestilent  cellars  where 
no  one  can  breathe.  I  am  thankful  that  I 
and  other  friends  have  been  able  to  help  her 
a  little  ;  but  what  can  one  do  when  there  is 
scarcely  any  bread  to  be  had  ?  The  wine  is  all 
finished,  and  a  bit  of  beef  is  not  to  be  found, 
though  I  gave  her  a  piece  of  ours." 

Morning  began  to  come.  I  went  up  to  the 
group   of  women   and  saw   a  sorrowful   sight. 

264 


Saragossa 

With  the  anguished  effort  to  save  life,  the 
mother  and  the  few  women  who  kept  her  com- 
pany were  torturing  the  poor  child  with 
remedies  which  everybody  tries  at  such  a  time  ; 
but  it  needed  only  to  see  the  victim  of  the 
fever  to  realize  the  impossibility  of  saving  that 
little  being  whom  death  had  already  grasped 
with  his  relentless  hand. 

The  voice  of  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  obliged 
me  to  hasten  forward  more  quickly ;  and  in 
an  outer  corner  in  the  Calle  de  las  Rufas  a 
second  group  completed  the  dreadful  picture 
of  that  unhappy  family.  Stretched  upon  the 
ground  was  the  body  of  Manuel,  a  young  man 
of  thirty  years,  no  less  amiable  and  generous 
in  his  life  than  his  father  and  brother.  A  ball 
had  pierced  his  head,  and  from  the  small  ex- 
ternal wound,  at  the  spot  whence  the  ball  had 
emerged,  a  thread  of  blood  still  trickled,  drop- 
ping down  the  temple,  the  cheek,  and  the 
neck,  and  falling  down  upon  the  skin  beneath 
the  shirt.  Because  of  this,  the  body  did  not 
seem  like  that  of  one  dead. 

When  I  arrived,  nobody  had  been  able  to 
make  his  mother  believe  that  he  was  dead,  and 
she  held  his  head  upon  her  knees,  hoping  to 
revive  him  with  tender  words.  Montoria,  on 
his  knees  at  the  right  side,  held  his  son's  hand 

265 


Saragossa 

between  his  own  hands  and  gazed  at  him, 
speechless,  not  taking  his  eyes  from  him.  As 
white  as  the  dead,  the  father  did  not  weep. 

"  Wife  !  "  he  exclaimed  at  last,  "  do  not 
pray  God  for  the  impossible.  We  have  lost 
our  son." 

"  No,  my  son  is  not  dead  !  "  exclaimed  the 
mother,  in  despair.  "  It  is  a  lie.  Why  de- 
ceive me  ?  How  could  it  be  possible  for  God 
to  take  our  son  from  us  ?  What  have  we 
done  to  deserve  such  a  punishment  ?  Manuel, 
my  son,  why  dost  thou  not  answer  me  ?  Why 
dost  thou  not  move  ?  Why  dost  thou  not 
speak?  In  a  moment  we  will  carry  thee  into 
the  house  —  but  where  is  our  house  ?  My 
son  grows  cold  on  this  bare  ground.  See  how 
chill  are  his  hands  and  his  face  !  " 

"  You  must  go  away  from  here,  wife,"  said 
Montoria,  restraining  the  flood  of  his  tears ; 
"we  will  take  care  of  Manuel." 

"  O  my  Lord  God ! "  moaned  the  mother, 
"  what  ails  my  son  that  he  does  not  speak, 
nor  move,  nor  wake  ?  He  seems  to  be  dead  ; 
but  he  is  not,  he  cannot  be  dead !  Holy 
Virgin  del  Pilar,  is  it  not  true  that  my  son  is 
not  dead  ?  " 

"  Leocadia,'*  repeated  Montoria,  wiping 
away  the  first  tears   that  had   fallen   from    his 

266 


Saragossa 

eyes,  "  go  away  from  here  a  little,  go  away, 
for  God's  sake!  Be  resigned,  for  God  has 
dealt  us  a  heavy  blow,  and  our  son  no  longer 
lives.     He  has  died  for  his  country." 

"  Why  has  my  son  died  !  "  exclaimed  the 
mother,  straining  the  body  to  her  in  her  arms, 
as  if  she  would  not  let  it  go.  "  No,  no,  no  ! 
What  is  the  country  to  me  ?  Let  my  son  be 
given  back  to  me.  Manuel,  my  boy,  do  not 
let  them  separate  you  from  me ;  those  who 
would  tear  you  from  my  arms  must  kill  me 
first." 

"O  Lord  God,  Holy  Virgin  del  Pilar," 
said  Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  in  solemn  tones, 
"  never  have  I  knowingly  and  deliberately 
offended  ye.  For  the  sake  of  religion  and 
the  king  I  have  given  my  goods  and  my  sons. 
Why,  instead  of  my  first-born,  why  have  you 
not  taken  my  life  a  hundred  times,  miserable 
old  man,  good  for  nothing  ?  Gentlemen,  you 
who  are  present,  I  am  not  ashamed  to  weep 
before  you ;  my  heart  is  utterly  broken,  but 
Montoria  is  still  the  same.  We  will  say  to 
thee,  Happy  art  thou  a  thousand  times,  my 
son,  who  hast  died  at  the  post  of  honor.  Un- 
happy those  of  us  who  still  live,  having  lost 
thee.  But  God  wills  it  thus ;  and  we  bow  our 
foreheads  before  the  ruler  of  all  things.     Wife, 

267 


Saragossa 

God  gave  us  peace,  happiness,  prosperity,  and 
good  sons  ;  now  it  seems  that  He  desires  to 
strip  us  of  all.  Let  our  hearts  be  filled  with 
humility,  and  let  us  not  curse  our  fate. 
Blessed  be  the  hand  that  leads  us,  and  let  us 
tranquilly  hope  for  the  blessing  of  a  death 
like  this." 

Dona  Leocadia,  who  had  no  life  left  except 
for  weeping,  was  kissing  the  cold  body  of  her 
son.  Don  Jose,  trying  to  subdue  the  mani- 
festations of  his  own  grief,  rose  and  said  in 
a  firm  voice, — 

"  Leocadia,  you  must  rise  now.  It  is  neces- 
sary that  our  son  should  be  buried." 

"Buried!"  exclaimed  the  mother.  "Buried!" 
And  she  could  say  no  more,  for  she  fell  for- 
ward, lifeless,  clasping  her  son. 

At  the  same  moment  we  heard  a  heart-rend- 
ing cry  not  far  from  there,  and  a  woman  came 
running  in  anguish  towards  us.  It  was  the 
wife  of  the  unfortunate  Manuel,  now  widowed 
and  childless.  Several  of  us  tried  to  restrain 
her,  so  that  she  might  not  witness  the  terrible 
scene,  after  what  she  had  just  been  through ; 
but  the  unhappy  lady  struggled  with  us,  beg- 
ging us  to  let  her  see  her  husband.  In  the 
mean  time  Don  Jose,  leaving  us,  went  over  to 
where  the    body   of  his    grandson   was  lying, 

268 


Saragossa 

took  him  in  his  arms,  and  carried  him  and  put 
him  down  near  Manuel.  The  woman  needed 
all  of  our  care ;  and  while  Dona  Leocadia  con- 
tinued without  consciousness  or  motion,  hold- 
ing the  corpse  embraced  in  her  arms,  her 
daughter-in-law,  fevered  with  grief,  was  run- 
ning about  after  imaginary  enemies,  threaten- 
ing to  tear  them  to  pieces.  We  tried  to  hold 
her,  but  she  escaped  from  us.  At  times  she 
laughed  with  frightful  laughter,  and  presently 
she  knelt  before  us,  praying  us  to  return  the 
two  bodies  that  we  had  taken  away. 

People  passed,  — soldiers,  friars,  peasants,  — 
all  seeing  this  with  indifference,  because  every 
one  had  passed  through  similar  scenes.  Hearts 
were  hardened,  and  souls  seemed  to  have  lost 
their  most  beautiful  faculties,  preserving  noth- 
ing but  a  rude  heroism.  At  last  the  poor 
woman  yielded  to  fatigue,  to  the  exhaustion 
of  her  own  pain,  lying  passive  in  my  arms 
as  if  she  were  dead.  We  looked  about  for 
some  cordial  or  some  kind  of  nourishment  to 
revive  her;  but  we  had  none,  and  the  people 
who  saw  our  need  had  work  enough  to  attend 
to  their  own.  In  the  mean  time,  Don  Jose 
helped  by  his  son  Augustine,  who  also  con- 
trolled his  bitter  grief,  loosened  the  body 
from  the  arms  of  Dona   Leocadia.     The  state 

269 


Saragossa 

of  this  unhappy  lady  was  such  that  it  seemed 
almost  as  if  we  should  have  to  mourn  another 
death  that  day.     Presently  Montoria  repeated, 

"  It  is  necessary  that  my  son  be  buried !  " 

He  looked  about ;  we  all  looked  about, 
and  saw  numbers  of  unburied  bodies.  In  the 
Calle  de  las  Rufas  there  were  many ;  and  the 
Calle  de  la  Imprenta  (now  the  Calle  de  Flandro) 
close  by  had  been  made  into  a  sort  of  receiving 
house.  It  is  not  exaggeration,  that  which  I  saw 
and  will  tell  you :  Innumerable  bodies  were 
piled  up  in  the  narrow  way,  forming  a  broad 
wall  from  house  to  house.  It  was  dreadful  to 
see,  and  those  who  saw  it  were  condemned  to 
have  before  their  mind's  eyes  for  all  their  lives 
that  funeral  pyre  made  of  the  bodies  of  their 
fellow-beings.  It  may  seem  that  I  am  invent- 
ing, but  this  thing  happened  :  a  man  entered 
the  Calle  de  la  Imprenta  and  began  to  shout. 
At  a  window  appeared  another  man,  who  replied 
to  him,  saying,  "  Come  up  !" 

Then  the  other,  thinking  to  make  a  shorter 
cut  than  by  the  house  door  and  the  staircase, 
climbed  up  over  the  heap  of  bodies,  and  reached 
the  second  story,  one  of  whose  windows  served 
him  for  a  door. 

In  many  other  streets,  the  same  thing  hap- 
pened.    Who    could    think    of    giving    them 

270 


Saragossa 

sepulchre  ?  For  every  pair  of  useful  arms,  and 
for  every  spade,  there  were  fifty  dead.  Three 
hundred  to  four  hundred  were  perishing  daily 
with  the  epidemic.  Every  bloody  battle  had 
carried  off  a  thousand  more ;  and  already  Sara- 
gossa began  to  seem  a  great  city  depopulated  of 
living  creatures. 

Montoria,  on  seeing  how  things  were,  said  : 

"  My  son  and  my  grandson  will  not  have  \ 
the  privilege  of  sleeping  beneath  the  ground. 
Their  souls  are  in  heaven.  What  matters  the 
rest  ?  We  must  leave  them  thus  in  this  gate-  ' 
way  of  the  Calle  de  las  Rufas.  Augustine,  my 
son,  it  is  best  for  you  to  go  back  to  the  lines. 
The  officers  are  able  to  spare  fewer  than  ever. 
I  believe  that  they  are  in  need  of  men  at  the 
Magdalena.  I  have  now  no  son,  man,  but  you. 
If  you  die,  what  would  be  left  me?  But  duty 
is  first ;  and,  before  seeing  thee  a  coward,  I  pre- 
fer to  see  thee  bleeding  like  thy  poor  brother 
with  thy  temple  pierced  by  the  enemy's  ball." 

Then  placing  his  hand  upon  the  head  of  his 
son,  who  was  kneeling  uncovered  beside  the 
body  of  Manuel,  he  continued,  lifting  his  eyes 
to  heaven, — 

"  Lord,  if  thou  hast  willed  to  take  my  second 
son,  also,  take  me  to  my  first.  When  the  siege 
is  over,  I  desire  to  live  no  longer ;  my  poor  wife 

271 


Saragossa 

and  I  have  had  our  share  of  happiness.  We 
have  received  too  many  blessings  to  speak 
against  the  hand  which  has  wounded  us.  Hast 
thou  not  done  enough  to  prove  us  ?  Must  my 
second  son  also  perish  ?  Come,  senors,"  he  said 
presently,  "  let  us  disperse.  Perhaps  we  are 
needed  elsewhere." 

"  Senor  Don  Jose,"  said  Don  Roque,  weep- 
ing, "  will  you  not  retire  also,  and  let  your 
friends  fulfil  this  sad  duty  ?  " 

"  No ;  I  am  man  for  all  that  must  be  done, 
and  God  has  given  me  a  soul  that  does  not 
flinch  and  will   not  quail." 

He  lifted  the  body  of  Manuel,  aided  by  one 
of  the  others,  while  Augustine  and  I  lifted  his 
grandchild,  to  place  both  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Calle  de  las  Rufas,  where  many  other  families 
had  lain  their  dead.  Montoria,  as  he  put  down 
the  body,  breathed  a  long  sigh,  and  let  his  arms 
fall  as  if  the  effort  made  had  exhausted  his 
energies,  and  said, — 

"  Truly,  gentlemen,  I  am  not  now  able  to 
deny  that  I  am  tired.  Yesterday,  I  felt  young ; 
to-day,  I  am  very  old." 

Montoria  had  indeed  aged  visibly,  and  one 
night  had  taken  ten  years  of  his  life.  He  sat 
down  upon  a  stone,  and,  putting  his  elbows  on 
his  knees,  hid  his  face  in  his  hands.      He  re- 

272 


Saragossa 

mained  in  this  attitude  for  a  long  time,  and 
none  of  those  present  interfered  with  his 
grief  Dona  Leocadia,  her  daughter,  and  her 
daughter  in-law,  assisted  by  two  old  servants 
of  the  family,  were  in  the  Coso.  Don  Roque, 
who  went  and  came  from  one  place  to  the 
other,  said,  — 

"  The  senora  remains  very  weak.  They  are 
praying  earnestly  now  and  weeping.  They  are 
sadly  downcast,  the  poor  ladies.  Boys,  it  is 
very  necessary  that  we  look  about  town,  and 
see  if  a  little  something  in  the  way  of  nourish- 
ment cannot  be  found." 

Montoria  rose  then,  wiped  away  the  tears 
which  coursed  freely  from  his  burning  eyes, 
saying,— 

"  There  is  no  lack  of  food  still  in  town, 
according  to  my  belief.  Don  Roque,  my 
friend,  will  you  not  go  and  find  something  to 
eat,  let  it  cost  what  it  may  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  I  paid  five  duros  for  a  hen  in 
the  market,"  said  one  of  the  old  servants  of 
the  house. 

"  But  to-day  there  are  none,"  said  Don 
Roque.     "  I  was  there  only  a  moment  ago." 

"  Friends,  look  about  and  find  something. 
I  need  nothing  for  myself." 

He  was  saying  this  when  we  heard  the 
i8  273 


Saragossa 

agreeable  cackle  of  a  fowl.  We  all  looked 
joyfully  towards  the  entrance  of  the  street, 
and  we  saw  Candiola,  who  carried  in  his 
left  hand  the  chicken  we  know  of,  caressing 
its  black  plumage  with  his  right.  Before  they 
asked  him  for  it,  he  approached  Montoria 
slowly,  and  said, — 

"  A  doubloon  for  the  chicken." 

"  What  a  starved  thing  it  is  !  "  exclaimed 
Don  Roque.  "  The  poor  creature  is  little 
more   than   bones.*' 

I  was  not  able  to  restrain  my  anger  at  seeing 
such  shining  evidence  of  the  repugnant  mean- 
ness and  hard-heartedness  of  Candiola.  So  I 
went  up  to  him,  and  snatched  the  chicken  from 
his  hands,  saying  violently,  — 

"  This  chicken  is  stolen  !  Come,  you  mis- 
erable miser,  one  would  sell  one's  own  cheaper! 
This  was  sold  for  five  duros  yesterday  in  the 
market.  Five  duros  you  may  have,  you 
coward,  you  thief,  not  a  fraction  more  !  " 

Candiola  began  to  howl  for  his  chicken,  and 
was  on  the  point  of  getting  a  good  thrash- 
ing, when  Don  Jose  de  Montoria  intervened, 
saying,  — 

"  Let  him  have  what  he  wishes.  Give 
Senor  Candiola  the  doubloon  that  he  charges 
for  this  fowl."      He  gave  him  the  extortionate 

274 


Saragossa 

amount,    which     Candiola    was     not    slow    to 
accept ;   and  then  our  friend  went  on  thus,  — 

"  Senor  Candiola,  let  us  speak  together. 
Now,  about  that  wherein  I  offended  you.  Yes 
—  a  few  days  ago  —  about  that  affair  of  the 
blows.  There  are  times  when  one  is  not 
master  of  one's  self,  when  the  blood  mounts 
up  to  the  head.  It  is  true  that  you  provoked 
me,  and  you  charged  more  for  the  flour  than 
the  Captain-General  had  ordered.  It  is  true, 
Don  Jeronimo,  my  friend,  that  I  shook  you 
off,  and  you  see  —  yet  —  one  could  not  help  that 
and  —  I,  I  believe  the  —  v/ell,  I  suppose  that  my 
hand  flew  away  from  me,  and  I  did  something." 

"Senor  Montoria,"  said  Candiola,  "a  day 
will  come  when  we  shall  again  have  authorities 
in  Saragossa,  Then  we  shall  meet  again  face 
to  face." 

"  Are  you  going  to  make  it  a  matter  of 
justices  and  notaries  ?  That 's  bad.  That 
which  is  past  —  it  was  an  access  of  anger,  one 
of  those  things  which  cannot  be  helped.  My 
mind  now  is  filled  with  the  thought  that  I  am 
in  trouble,  very  great  trouble.  One  does  not 
wish  to  offend  one's  neighbor." 

"  It  is  not  much  to  offend  him,  after  robbing 
him,"  said  Don  Jeronimo,  looking  about  at  us 
all,  and  smiling  contemptuously. 

275 


Saragossa 

"  It   was    not    exactly  robbing/*    said    Don 
Jose,  patiently ;  "  because  I  did  that  which  the 
Captain-General  commanded.     The  offence  of 
word  and  deed  was  undeniable  ;  and  now  when 
I  saw  you  coming  with  the  chicken,  I  deter- 
mined  at  once  to  own  up  that   I   did  wrong. 
My  conscience  urged  it  upon  me.     Ah,  Seiior 
Candiola,  I  am  very  unhappy  !     When  one  is 
happy,  one  does  not  know  his  faults.     But  it 
is  true,  Don  Jeronimo,  that  as  I  saw  you  com- 
ing toward  me  just  now,  I  felt  desirous  to  ask 
your  pardon  for  those  blows.     I  hold  out  the 
hand  that  offended.     So  it  is.     I  don't  know 
what  I  am  doing  —  yes,  I  do  request  you  to 
forgive  me,  and  let  us  be  friends.     Senor  Don 
Jeronimo,  let  us  be  friends,  let  us  be  recon- 
ciled, and  not  make  a  permanent  grudge  out 
of  an   old    resentment.     Hatred    poisons    the 
soul,    and    the    remembrance    of    not    having 
done  right  oppresses  us  with  an  insupportable 
weight." 

"  After  an  act  of  robbery,  you  think  all  can 
be  arranged  with  hypocritical  words,"  said 
Candiola,  turning  his  back  and  skulking  away 
from  the  group,  muttering,  "  Senor  Montoria 
should  talk  of  refunding  the  price  of  the  flour. 
Begging  forgiveness  of  me !  I  have  lived 
to  see  all  there  is  to  see." 

276 


Saragossa 

He  moved  slowly  away.  Montoria,  seeing 
that  several  of  us  were  about  to  pursue  the 
insolent  cur,  said,  — 

^^Let  him  go  in  peace.  Let  us  have  com- 
passion on  that  unfortunate  man." 


277 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

ON  the  third  of  February,  the  French 
gained  possession  of  the  Convent  of 
Jerusalem/  which  was  between  Santa  Engracia 
and  the  hospital.  The  battle  which  succeeded 
the  conquest  of  such  an  important  position  was 
as  bloody  as  those  of  Las  Tenerias. 

Don  Marquis  Simono,  the  distinguished 
commander  of  engineers,  was  one  of  those  who 
died  there.  In  the  suburb,  the  besiegers  had 
advanced  but  little;  and  in  six  or  seven  days* 
effort,  they  had  not  gained  possession  of  the 
Calle  de  Puerta  Quemada. 

The  authorities  understood  that  it  would  be 
difficult  to  prolong  the  resistance  much  longer, 
and  with  offers  of  money  and  honors  tried  to 
rouse  the  patriots  anew.  In  a  proclamation 
of  the  second  of  February,  asking  for  means, 
Palafox  said,  "I  am  giving  my  two  watches 
and  twenty  silver  dishes,  which  are  all   I  have 

1  To-day  the  Convent  of  Jerusalem  still  exists  in  a  restored 
condition.  Its  facade  is  towards  the  Hall  of  Independence. 
The  hospital  occupied  the  place  where  the  Hotel  de  T  Europe 
stands.  The  present  Palace  of  Deputies  for  the  Province  was 
constructed  on  the  site  of  the  Convent  of  San  Francisco. 

278 


Saragossa 

left."  In  that  of  the  fourth  of  February,  he 
offered  to  give  especial  honors,  to  make  cabal- 
leros  of  the  twelve  men  who  should  most  dis- 
tinguish themselves ;  a  military  order  of  nobility 
was  created  for  them,  called  the  Infanzones. 
In  the  proclamation  of  the  ninth,  he  mourned 
the  indifference  and  readiness  to  yield,  exhibited 
by  some  citizens  at  the  misfortunes  of  their 
country  ;  and  after  intimating  that  this  loss  of 
heart  was  brought  about  by  French  gold,  he 
threatened  dire  punishment  for  those  who 
showed  themselves  cowards. 

The  battles  of  the  third,  fourth,  and  fifth 
were  not  so  bloody  as  the  last  which  I  have 
described.  The  French  and  Spanish  were 
perishing  with  fatigue.  The  street  entrances 
which  we  were  holding  in  the  Plazuela  de  la 
Magdalena  were  defended  with  cannon,  and 
repulsed  the  enemy's  two  advances  from  the 
Calle  de  Palomar  and  the  Calle  de  Pabostre. 
The  remains  of  the  Seminary  were  also  bristling 
with  artillery  ;  and  the  French,  sure  of  not 
being  able  to  drive  us  from  there  by  ordinary 
means,  were  working  at  their  mines  without 
ceasing. 

My  battalion  was  now  one  with  that  of  the 
Estremadura,  and  indeed  what  was  left  of  both 
was    scarcely    three    companies.       Augustine 

279 


Saragossa 

Montoria  was  captain,  and  I  was  promoted 
lieutenant  on  the  second.  We  did  not  return 
to  service  in  Las  Tenerias.  They  sent  us  to 
guard  San  Francisco,  —  a  vast  edifice  which 
offered  good  positions  for  our  guns  against  the 
French,  who  were  estabhshed  in  the  Convent 
of  Jerusalem.  Very  short  rations  were  now 
dealt  out  to  us ;  and  those  of  us  who  were 
counted  among  the  officers  ate  in  the  same 
mess  with  the  soldiers.  Augustine  kept  his 
bread  to  give  to   Mariquilla. 

After  the  fourth  day,  the  French  began  min- 
ing towards  the  hospital  and  San  Francisco,  in 
order  to  take  it ;  for  they  knew  well  that  it 
would  be  impossible  in  any  other  way.  In  order 
to  hinder  them  we  countermined,  intending  to 
blow  them  up  before  they  could  blow  us  up. 
This  toilsome  labor  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
can  be  compared  to  nothing  else  in  the  world. 
We  seemed  to  ourselves  to  have  left  off  being 
men,  and  to  be  converted  into  another  kind 
of  creatures,  into  cold  inhabitants  of  caverns, 
without  feeling,  far  from  the  sun  and  the  pure 
air  and  the  lovely  light  of  day.  We  built 
long  galleries,  working  ceaselessly  like  the 
worm  that  builds  his  house  in  the  darkness  of 
earth,  shaping  it  like  his  own  body.  Between 
the  blows  of  our  picks,  we  heard,  like  a  muffled 

280 


Saragossa 

echo,  the  picks  of  the  French.  After  having 
been  beaten  and  destroyed  on  the  surface,  we 
expected  momentarily  to  be  exterminated  in 
the  dreadful   night  of  those  sepulchres. 

The  Convent  of  San  Francisco  had  vast  sub- 
terranean wine-cellars  under  its  choir.  The 
edifices  which  the  French  occupied  farther 
down  had  these  also,  and  it  was  unusual  for  a 
house  not  to  have  a  deep  cellar.  In  these 
many  of  our  enemies  perished,  sometimes  by 
the  falling  in  of  floors,  sometimes  wounded 
from  afar  by  our  balls,  which  penetrated  into 
the  most  hidden  places.  The  galleries  opened 
by  the  spades  of  both  sides  met  at  last  in  one 
of  these  cellars.  By  the  light  of  our  torches, 
we  saw  the  French,  like  fantastic  goblin  figures 
engendered  by  the  reddish  light  and  the  sin- 
uosities of  the  old  Moorish  dungeon.  They  did 
not  see  us,  and  we  began  firing  at  them ;  but  as 
we  were  provided  with  hand-grenades,  we  hurled 
these  also,  putting  them  to  flight,  following 
them  afterwards  at  arms-length  the  whole  dis- 
tance through  their  galleries.  All  this  seemed 
a  nightmare,  —  one  of  those  dreadful  struggles 
which  at  times  we  all  wage  with  the  abhorrent 
figures  that  people  the  terrible  caverns  of  our 
dreams.  But  it  was  not  a  dream,  though  it 
repeated  itself  at  many  points. 

2S1 


Saragossa 

In  this  pursuit,  we  showed  ourselves  fre- 
quently ;  and  at  last  emerged  in  the  Coso, — 
the  central  place  of  reunion,  and  at  the  same 
time,  park,  hospital,  and  general -cemetery  of 
the  besieged.  One  afternoon  (I  believe  it  was 
the  fifth),  we  were  in  the  gateway  of  the  con- 
vent, with  several  boys  of  the  battalion  of 
Estremadura  and  San  Pedro.  We  were  talking 
about  the  way  the  siege  dragged  along,  and  all 
agreed  that  resistance  would  very  soon  be 
impossible.  Our  group  was  constantly  en- 
larged. Don  Jose  de  Montoria  came  up,  and, 
saluting  us  with  a  sad  face,  seated  himself  upon 
a  wooden  bench  near  the  doorway. 

"  Do  you  hear  what  they  are  saying  here, 
Don  Jose  ? ''  I  said  to  him.  "  They  believe 
that  it  is  impossible  to  hold  out  many  days 
more.*' 

"  Don't  get  discouraged,  boys,"  he  answered. 
"  The  Captain-General  says  truly  in  his  pro- 
clamation that  a  good  deal  of  French  gold  is 
in  circulation  in  this  city." 

A  Franciscan  who  had  come  to  nurse 
several  dozen  of  the  sick  took  up  the  word, 
and  said,  — 

"  It  is  painful  to  hear  them.  They  do  not 
talk  of  anything  but  surrender  here.  It  does 
not  seem  as  if  this  is   Saragossa  any    longer. 

282 


Saragossa 

Who  could  believe  it  of  a  people  tried  in  the 
fire  of  the  first  siege  ?  " 

"Your  reverence  is  right!"  exclaimed  Mon- 
toria.  "  It  is  shameful  ;  and  even  those  of 
us  who  have  hearts  of  bronze  feel  ourselves 
attacked  by  this  weakness,  which  spreads  faster 
than  the  epidemic.  In  casting  up  the  ac- 
counts, I  don't  know  how  to  reckon  for  this 
novelty  of  surrender,  when  we  have  never  done 
it  before,  porra !  If  there  is  something  to 
come  after  this  world,  as  our  religion  teaches 
us,  why  should  we  worry  about  a  day  more  or 
less  of  life  ?  " 

"  The  truth  is,  Seiior  Don  Jose,"  said  the 
friar,  "  that  the  provisions  are  going  fast ;  and 
when  there  is  no  fiour  everybody  is  irritable." 

"  Fiddle-de-dee,  Father  Luengo,"  exclaimed 
Montoria.  "  Yet  if  these  people,  accustomed 
to  the  luxury  of  other  times,  cannot  get  along 
without  bread  and  meat,  there  is  nothing 
to  say  !  As  if  there  were  not  other  things 
to  eat  !  I  believe  in  resisting  to  the  last 
breath  of  life,  cost  what  it  may.  I  have  experi- 
enced terrible  misfortunes  ;  the  loss  of  my  first- 
born and  of  my  grandson  has  filled  my  heart 
with  sorrow ;  but  at  times  my  regard  for 
national  honor  fills  my  soul  so  that  there  is 
no  room  left  for  any  other  sentiment.      One 

283 


Saragossa 

son  is  left  to  me,  the  only  consolation  of  my 
life,  the  one  hope  of  my  house  and  my  name. 
Far  from  taking  him  out  of  danger,  I  insisted 
upon  his  persisting  in  the  defence.  If  I  should 
lose  him,  I  would  die  of  grief;  but  in  order  to 
save  our  national  honor,  I  am  willing  that  my 
only  child  shall  perish." 

"And  according  to  what  I  have  heard,"  said 
Father  Luengo,  "  the  Seiior  Augustine  has 
performed  prodigies  of  valor.  It  is  plain  that 
the  greenest  laurels  of  this  campaign  belong  to 
the  brilliant  fighters  of  the  Church." 

"  No ;  my  son  no  longer  belongs  only  to 
the  Church.  It  is  necessary  that  he  should  re- 
nounce the  plan  of  being  a  clergyman.  I  can- 
not be  left  without  direct  succession." 

"  Ah,  you  are  talking  of  succession  and 
of  marriages  !  Augustine  must  have  changed 
since  he  became  a  soldier.  Formerly  his  con- 
versation was  all  of  theology,  and  I  never  heard 
him  talk  of  love.  He  is  a  chap  who  has  Saint 
Thomas  at  his  finger-tips,  and  does  not  know 
in  what  part  of  their  faces  girls  carry  their 
eyes." 

"Augustine  will  sacrifice  his  beloved  voca- 
tion for  my  sake.  If  we  come  out  alive  from 
the  siege,  and  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  grants  me 
life,     I    intend    to    marry    him    quickly    to    a 

284 


Saragossa 

woman  who  is  his  equal  in  position  and 
fortune." 

While  he  was  saying  this,  we  saw  Mariquilla 
Candiola  approaching  us,  sobbing ;  on  coming 
up  to  me  she  asked,  — 

"  Senor  de  Araceli,  have  you  seen  my 
father?  " 

"  No,  Seiiorita  Dona  Mariquilla,"  I  an- 
swered, "  I  have  not  seen  him  since  yesterday. 
It  may  be  that  he  is  in  the  ruins  of  his  house, 
busying  himself  trying  to  get  something  out." 

"  No,  he  is  not,"  said  Mariquilla,  anxiously; 
"  I  have  looked  for  him  everywhere." 

"  Have  you  been  over  back  here,  near  San 
Diego  ?  Senor  Candiola  sometimes  goes  to 
look  at  his  house  los  Duendes,  to  see  if  it 
has  been   destroyed." 

"  I  am  going  there  instantly  ! " 

As  she  disappeared,  Montoria  said,  "  She  is, 
I  am  told,  the  daughter  of  the  miser  Candiola. 
Faith,  she  's  very  pretty,  and  does  not  look  like 
the  daughter  of  such  a  wolf —  God  forgive  me, 
I  mean  good  man." 

"She's  not  bad  looking,"  said  the  friar; 
"  but  I  imagine  she 's  a  good  one.  Saints 
don't  come  of  Candiola  timber."  « 

"  One  must  not  speak  ill  of  one's  neighbor," 
said  Don  Jose."  j 


Saragossa 

"  Candida  is  nobody's  neighbor.  The  girl 
is  always  in  the  company  of  the  soldiers  since 
they  lost  their  house." 

"  She  goes  among  them  to  help  take  care  of 
the  wounded." 

"  It  may  be  ;  but  it  looks  to  me  as  if  she 
likes  best  those  who  are  strong  and  hearty. 
Her  charming  little  face  does  not  show  a  whiff 
of  shame." 

"  You  snake  in  the  grass  !  " 

"It  is  the  truth,"  said  the  friar.  "She's  a 
chip  of  the  old  block.  Do  they  not  say  all 
sorts  of  things  about  her  mother,  Pepa 
Rincon?  " 

"  Perhaps  she  used  to  take  a  little  something 
to  make  her  happy." 

"  It 's  not  a  bad  kind  of  happiness.  When 
she  was  abandoned  by  her  third  gallant,  Senor 
Don  Jeronimo  took  charge  of  her." 
I  "  Enough  of  scandal,"  said  Montoria. 
"  Even  when  we  talk  of  the  worst  people  in 
the  world,  we  can  at  least  leave  them  to  their 
own  consciences." 

"  I  would  not  give  a  farthing  for  the  souls 

'   of  all    the    Candiolas    put    together,"    replied 

the  friar.     "  But  there  comes  the  Senor  Don 

Jeronimo,  if  I  am  not  mistaken.     He  has  seen 

us,  and  is  coming  over  here." 

286 


Saragossa 

Candida  was  indeed  coming  slowly  along 
the  Coso,  and  came  up  to  the  convent  door. 

"Good-evening  to  you,  Seiior  Don  Jer- 
onimOj"  said  Montoria.  "  I  live  in  hope  that 
our  grudge  is  all  gone." 

"A  moment  ago  your  innocent  young 
daughter  was  here  looking  for  you,"  said 
Luengo,  maliciously. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  has  gone  to  San  Diego,"  said  a  sol- 
dier. "  Maybe  some  of  the  French  about 
here  have  carried  her  off." 

"  Perhaps  they  respect  her,  knowing  that  she 
is  the  daughter  of  Senor  Don  Jeronimo,"  said 
Luengo.  "  Is  this  true,  friend  Candiola,  that 
they  are   telling  about  here  ?  " 

"What?" 

"That  you  have  been  inside  the  French 
lines,   holding  confabs  with  that  mob  ? " 

"  I  ?  What  vile  calumny  !  "  exclaimed  the 
miser.  "My  enemies  are  saying  that  to  ruin 
me.  Is  it  you,  Senor  de  Montoria,  who  have 
set  these  stories   going  ?  " 

"  Not  even  in  thought,"  said  the  patriot ; 
"  but  I  have  certainly  heard  others  say  it.  I 
remember  defending  you,  assuring  them  that 
Seiior  Candiola  is  incapable  of  selling  himself 
to  the  French." 

287 


Saragossa 

"  My  enemies,  my  enemies  wish  to  ruin 
me  !  What  calumnies  they  invent  against  me  ! 
They  wish  to  make  me  lose  my  honor,  since  I 
have  lost  my  estate.  Gentlemen,  my  house  in 
the  Calle  de  la  Sombra  has  lost  part  of  its  roof. 
Is  there  any  such  trouble  as  mine  !  The  one 
that  I  have  here  back  of  San  Francisco,  next 
to  the  garden  of  San  Diego,  is  still  preserved  ; 
but  it  is  occupied  by  the  troops,  and  they 
will  finish  it  for  me,  and  it  *s  a  beauty.'* 

"  That  house  is  worth  very  little,  Senor  Don 
Jeronimo,"  said  the  friar.  "  If  I  have  not  for- 
gotten, it  is  ten  years  since  anybody  would  live 
in  It. 

"  That  is  because  some  crazy  people  gave 
out  that  it  has  ghosts  in  it.  But  let  us  drop 
that.  Have  you  seen  my  daughter  about 
here  ?  " 

"  That  virginal  white  lily  has  gone  over  to 
San  Diego  in  search  of  her  amiable  papa." 

"  My  daughter  has  lost  all  her  good  sense." 

"  Something  of  that  sort.'' 

"  Yet  Senor  de  Montoria  is  all  to  blame  for 
it.  My  wicked  enemies  give  me  no  time  to 
breathe." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  exclaimed  my  pro- 
tector. "  How  am  I  to  blame  for  what  this 
child   has   inherited   of  the   evil  ways   of  her 

288 


Saragossa 

mother  ?  I  mean  to  say  (my  cursed  tongue  !) 
that  her  mother  was  an  exemplary  lady." 

"  The  insults  and  scorn  of  Senor  Montoria 
do  not  affect  me/'  said  the  miser,  with  biting 
contempt.  "  Instead  of  insulting  me,  the  Senor 
Don  Jose  ought  to  keep  his  son  Augustine  in 
order,  that  libertine  who  has  turned  my  daugh- 
ter's head.  No,  I  will  not  give  her  to  him  in 
marriage,  though  he  begs  on  his  knees.  He 
wants  to  rob  me  of  her.  A  pretty  fellow,  that 
Don  Augustine !  No,  no,  he  shall  not  have  her 
for  a  wife.  She  can  do  better,  much  better, 
my  Mariquilla  !  " 

Don  Jose  de  Montoria  turned  white  on 
hearing  this,  and  stepped  hastily  towards  Can- 
diola,  with  the  intention  doubtless  of  renewing 
the  scene  in  the  Calle  de  Anton  Trillo.  But 
he  restrained  himself,  and  said  in  a  mournful 
voice,  — 

"  My  God,  give  me  strength  to  govern  my 
anger.  Is  it  possible  to  keep  my  temper  and 
to  have  humility  in  the  presence  of  this  man  ? 
I  asked  his  pardon  for  the  wrong  which  I  did 
him.  I  humbled  myself  before  him.  I  offered 
him  a  friendly  hand;  and  now  he  is  here  injur- 
ing and  insulting  me  in  the  most  disgusting 
fashion.  Wretched  man  !  beat  me,  kill  me, 
drink  all  my  blood,  and  sell  my  bones  after- 
19  289 


Saragossa 

wards  to  make  buttons ;  but  let  not  that  vile 
tongue  of  yours  cast  ignominy  upon  my  be- 
loved son.  What  is  this  that  you  say  about 
my  Augustine  ?  '* 

"  The  truth;* 

"I  do  not  know  how  to  contain  myself! 
Gentlemen,  witness  my  self-control.  I  do  not 
wish  to  let  myself  go.  I  do  not  wish  to  tram- 
ple on  any  one.  I  do  not  wish  to  offend  God. 
I  forgive  this  man  his  calumnies  ;  but  on  condi- 
tion that  he  quit  my  presence  at  once,  because 
seeing  him  I  cannot  answer  for  myself." 

Candiola,  alarmed  at  these  words,  entered  the 
convent  gate.  Father  Luengo  took  Montoria 
down  the  Coso. 

At  the  same  time  there  began  to  be  heard 
among  the  soldiers  there  an  angry  murmur 
which  indicated  sentiments  hostile  to  the  father 
of  Mariquilla,  who,  accustomed  to  this  sort  of 
thing,  did  not  realize  that  it  was  anything  un- 
usual. He  tried  to  get  away,  as  they  pushed 
him  from  one  to  the  other ;  but  they  held  him, 
and,  without  knowing  exactly  how,  he  was 
brought  swiftly  into  the  cloister  by  the  threat- 
ening group.  Then  a  voice  cried,  in  angry 
accents,  — 

"  To  the  well,  throw  him  into  the  well  !  " 

Candiola  was  seized  by  many  hands,  pounded 

290 


Saragossa 

and  torn,  and  pulled  about  more  than  ever  be- 
fore. 

"He  is  one  of  those  who  go  about  distribut- 
ing French  bribes  to  the  troops,"  said  one. 

"  Yes,  yes  !  "  cried  others.  "  Yesterday  they 
say  that  he  was  walking  about  in  the  market 
distributing  money." 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  unfortunate  man,  in 
a  choked  voice,  "  I  swear  to  you  that  I  have 
never  distributed  any  money." 

And  this  was  the  truth. 

"  Last  night  they  say  he  was  seen  sneaking 
over  into  the  French  camp." 

"  He  did  not  come  back  until  morning.  To 
the  well  with  him  !  " 

One  of  my  comrades  and  I  tried  for  awhile 
to  save  Candiola  from  certain  death ;  but  we 
only  succeeded  by  force  of  prayers  and  per- 
suasions, saying, — 

"  Boys,  do  not  commit  an  outrage.  What 
harm  can  this  ridiculous  old  wretch  do  ^  " 

"It  is  true,"  said  Candiola,  with  the  calm- 
ness of  despair;  "what  harm  can  I  do  who  am 
always  busy  aiding  those  in  need  ?  Do  not 
kill  me  !  You  are  soldiers  of  the  Estremadura 
and  las  Penas  de  San  Pedro;  you  are  all  good 
fellows.  You  were  burning  those  houses  in  Las 
Tenerias  where  I  found  the  chicken  that  I  sold 

291 


Saragossa 

for  a  doubloon.  Who  says  that  I  sell  myself  to 
the  French  ?  I  hate  them  ;  I  cannot  bear  to 
look  at  them  ;  and  I  love  you  as  my  own  life. 
I  have  lost  everything.  Leave  me  my  life,  at 
least." 

These  pleadings,  and  my  prayers  and  those 
of  my  friend,  softened  the  soldiers  a  little  ;  and, 
when  their  first  outburst  of  anger  was  over,  it 
was  easy  for  us  to  save  the  wretched  old  man. 
The  soldiers  were  presently  relieved,  and  he 
was  in  perfect  safety ;  but  he  never  even 
thanked  us  when  we  offered  him  a  bit  of 
bread,  after  saving  his  life.  A  little  later, 
when  he  recovered  his  breath  enough  to  walk, 
he  went  on  out  of  the  street  and  joined  his 
daughter. 


292 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

THAT  afternoon  almost  all  the  efforts  of 
the  French  were  directed  against  the 
suburb  from  the  left  of  the  Ebro.  They  as- 
saulted the  Monastery  of  Jesus,  and  bombarded 
the  Church  of  the  Virgin  del  Pilar,  where  the 
greater  number  of  sick  and  infirm  had  found 
refuge,  believing  that  the  sanctity  of  the  place 
offered  them  greater  security  than  any  other 
spot. 

In  the  centre  of  the  city,  we  did  not  work 
much  that  day.  All  our  attention  was  concen- 
trated upon  the  mines,  and  our  efforts  directed 
to  giving  the  enemy  evidence  that,  before  con- 
senting to  be  blown  up  ourselves,  we  would 
discuss  blowing  them  up,  or  at  least  flying 
upwards  together. 

At  night  both  armies  seemed  given  over  to 
peaceful  repose.  The  rough  blows  of  the  pick 
were  no  longer  heard  in  the  subterranean  gal- 
leries. I  sallied  forth ;  and  near  San  Diego  I 
found  Augustine  and  Mariquilla,  who  were 
talking  quietly  together,  seated  sedately  upon 
the  doorstep  of  the  house  los  Duendes.     They 

293 


Saragossa 

were  very  glad  to  see  me ;  and  I  joined  them, 
sharing  the  scraps  of  bread  of  which  they  were 
making  their  supper. 

"  We  have  nowhere  to  stay,"  said  Mari- 
quilla.  "  We  were  in  a  portico  in  the  Organo 
alley ;  but  we  were  driven  out.  Why  is  it  that 
so  many  people  detest  my  poor  father  ?  What 
harm  has  he  done  them  ?  We  took  refuge 
afterwards  in  a  corner  of  the  Calle  de  las 
Urreas,  and  were  driven  out  of  there  too. 
We  sat  down  afterwards  under  an  arch  in  the 
Coso,  and  all  those  who  were  there  fled  away 
from  us.      My  father  was  furious." 

"  Mariquilla  of  my  heart,"  said  Augustine, 
"  let  us  hope  that  the  siege  will  soon  be  fin- 
ished by  some  means  or  other.  I  hope  that 
God  will  let  us  both  die,  if  living  we  may  not 
be  happy.  I  do  not  know  why,  among  so 
many  misfortunes,  my  heart  is  full  of  hope ;  I 
do  not  know  why  I  have  such  happy  thoughts, 
and  think  constantly  of  a  cheerful  future.  Why 
not  ?  Must  everything  be  dreadful  and  un- 
fortunate ?  The  troubles  of  my  family  have 
been  very  great.  My  mother  neither  receives 
nor  desires  to  receive  any  consolation.  No- 
body is  able  to  get  her  away  from  the  place 
where  the  bodies  of  my  brother  and  my 
nephew  are ;  and  when  by  force  we  take  her  to 

294 


Saragossa 

ever  so  great  a  distance,  she  immediately  begins 
to  drag  herself  along  over  the  stones  of  the 
street  to  try  and  return.  She  and  my  sister 
and  my  sister-in-law  are  pitiable  to  see,  refus- 
ing to  take  food,  and  in  their  prayers  deliriously 
confusing  the  names  of  all  the  saints.  This 
afternoon  we  have  at  last  contrived  to  carry 
them  to  a  sheltered  spot  where  we  obliged 
them  to  get  a  little  repose,  and  to  take  a  little 
food.  Mariquilla,  how  sadly  God  has  dealt 
with  my  people  !  Have  I  not  reason  to  hope 
that  at  last  He  will  pity  us  ? " 

"Yes,'*  said  Mariquilla;  "my  heart  tells  me 
that  we  have  passed  the  hard  part  of  our  life, 
and  that  now  we  shall  have  peaceful  days. 
The  siege  will  soon  be  finished ;  because,  ac- 
cording to  what  my  father  says,  this  holding  out 
can  be  only  a  matter  of  days.  This  morning 
I  went  to  the  Pilar  ;  when  I  knelt  before  the 
Virgin,  it  seemed  to  me  that  our  holy  Lady 
looked  at  me  and  smiled.  Then  I  came  out  of 
the  church,  my  heart  was  beating  with  a  keen 
delight.  I  looked  at  the  sky,  and  the  bombs 
seemed  to  me  like  toys ;  I  looked  at  the 
wounded,  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  they  were 
all  healed;  I  looked  at  the  people,  and  could 
almost  believe  that  they  all  felt  the  same  hap- 
piness which  was  overflowing  my    bosom.      I 

29s 


Saragossa 

do  not  know  how  it  is  with  me  to-day,  I  am 
so  happy.  God  and  the  Virgin  have  surely 
taken  pity  on  us ;  and  this  beating  of  my 
heart,  this  joyous  restlessness,  without  care 
for  what  may  happen,  must  mean  good  for- 
tune after  so  many  tears  ! " 

"  All  that  you  say  is  true,*'  said  Augustine, 
holding  Mariquilla  lovingly  to  him.  "  Your 
presentiments  are  laws  ;  your  heart,  one  with 
the  divine,  cannot  be  deceived.  Listening  to 
you,  it  seems  to  me  as  if  the  troubles  that 
crush  us  melt  away  in  the  air,  and  I  breathe 
with  delight  the  breath  of  happiness.  I  hope 
that  your  father  will  not  oppose  your  marry- 
ing me." 

"  My  father  is  good,"  said  Mariquilla.  "  I 
believe  that  if  his  neighbors  in  the  city  had  not 
worried  him  so  much  that  he  would  have  been 
kinder.  But  they  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  him. 
This  afternoon  he  was  badly  maltreated  again 
in  the  cloister  of  San  Francisco,  and  when  he 
joined  me  in  the  Coso  he  was  furious,  and 
swore  that  he  would  be  revenged.  I  tried  to 
quiet  him,  but  all  in  vain.  They  drive  us 
away  from  everywhere.  He  doubled  up  his 
fists,  and  angrily  threatened  those  who  were 
there  near  us.  Afterwards,  he  ran  away  and 
came  here.     I  thought  he  was  coming  to  see 

296 


Saragossa 

if  they  had  destroyed  this  house,  which  is  ours. 
I  followed  him.  He  turned  towards  me  as  if 
frightened  at  hearing  my  footsteps,  and  said  to 
me,  '  Stupid  meddler,  who  told  you  to  follow 
me?'  I  answered  nothing;  but  seeing  that  he 
advanced  to  the  French  lines,  as  if  he  meant 
to  cross  over,  I  tried  to  detain  him,  and  said 
to  him,  '  Father,  where  are  you  going  ?  * 
Then  he  answered,  '  Do  you  know  that  my 
friend  who  served  last  year  in  Saragossa,  the 
Swiss  Captain  Don  Carlos  Lindener,  is  in  the 
French  army  ?  I  am  going  to  see  him.  I 
remember  that  he  owes  me  a  certain  amount.' 
He  made  me  stay  here,  and  went  on.  I  am 
afraid  that  if  his  enemies  know  that  he  crossed 
over  into  the  French  lines,  they  will  call  him 
a  cxaitor.  I  do  not  know  whether  it  is  the 
great  affection  that  I  have  for  him,  but  he 
seems  to  me  incapable  of  such  action.  I  am 
afraid  though  that  there  is  something  wrong, 
and  for  this  reason  I  long  for  the  end  of  the 
siege.  Is  it  not  true  that  it  will  soon  be 
finished,  Augustine  ?  " 

"Yes,  Mariquilla,  it  will  soon  be  finished, 
and  we  will  be  married.  My  father  v/ishes  me 
to  marry." 

"  Who  is  your  father  ?  What  is  his  name  ? 
Is  it  not  time  yet  to  tell  me  that? " 

297 


Saragossa 

"You  shall  know  it  another  time.  My 
father  is  one  of  the  principal  personages  in 
Saragossa,  and  much  beloved.  Why  wish  to 
know   more  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  I  tried  to  inquire.  I  was  curi- 
ous. I  asked  several  people  I  know  that  I 
met  in  the  Coso,  '  Do  you  know  what  gentle- 
man it  is  who  has  lost  his  eldest  son  ? '  But 
so  many  are  hke  that,  that  they  only  laughed 
at  me." 

"  I  will  reveal  it  to  you  in  good  time,  and 
when  in  telling  it  to  you  I  can  give  you  good 
news  with  it." 

"  Augustine,  if  I  marry  you,  I  wish  that 
you  would  take  me  away  from  Saragossa  for 
several  days.  I  want  for  a  little  time  to  see 
other  houses,  other  trees,  other  scenes.  I 
wish  to  Uve  for  some  days  in  places  where 
these  things  are  not,  among  which  I  have  suf- 
fered so  much." 

"  Yes,  Mariquilla,  my  soul,"  exclaimed 
Montoria,  quite  carried  away ;  "  we  will  go 
wherever  we  please,  far  away  from  here,  to- 
morrow even  ;  no,  not  to-morrow,  for  the  siege 
will  not  be  raised.  Day  after  to-morrow,  in 
short,  sometime,  when  —  God  wills  it." 

"  Augustine,"  added  Mariquilla,  in  a  sleepy 
voice,  "  I  wish  that,  after  we  return  from  our 

298 


Saragossa 

journey,  that  we  might  rebuild  the  house 
where  I  was  born.  The  cypress-tree  is  still 
standing.'* 

Mariquilla's  head  drooped  forward,  showing 
that  she  was  half  overcome  with  sleep. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  to  sleep,  you  poor 
little  thing  ?  "  my  friend  said  to  her,  taking 
her  in  his  arms. 

"  I  have  not  slept  at  all  for  several  nights," 
replied  the  girl,  closing  her  eyes.  "Anxiety, 
sorrow,  and  fear  have  kept  me  awake.  To- 
night weariness  overcomes  me,  and  I  am  so 
peaceful  now  that  it  makes  me  wish  to  go  to 
sleep." 

"  Sleep  in  my  arms,  Mariquilla,"  said  Augus- 
ti^^  -  "and  may  the  peace  that  now  fills  thy 
soul  not  leave  thee  when  thou  wakest." 

After  a  little  while,  when  we  thought  her 
sleeping,  Mariquilla,  half  asleep  and  half  awake, 
said,  — 

"Augustine,  I  do  not  wish  my  good  Dona 
Guedita  to  leave  me ;  she  took  such  good 
care  of  us  when  we  were  first  engaged.  You 
see  now  I  was  right  in  telling  you  that  my 
father  was  in  the  French  camp  to  collect  his 
bill  —  " 

Then  she  spoke  no  more,  and  slept  pro- 
foundly.    Augustine    sat   upon    the    ground, 

299 


Saragossa 

holding  her  on  his  knees  and  in  his  arms.  I 
covered  her  feet  with  my  cloak. 

Augustine  and  I  were  silent,  so  that  our 
voices  might  not  disturb  the  sleep  of  the 
young  girl.  The  place  was  deserted  enough. 
Just  back  of  us  was  the  Casa  los  Duendes, 
close  by  the  Convent  of  San  Francisco,  and 
opposite  the  college  of  San  Diego,  with  its 
orchard  surrounded  by  high  mud  walls  which 
opened  upon  irregular  and  narrow  alleys. 
Through  these  marched  the  sentinels  who  had 
been  relieved,  and  the  platoons  going  to  the 
picket  lines  or  coming  from  there.  The  truce 
was  complete,  and  this  repose  signified  a  great 
battle  on  the  following  day.  Suddenly  the 
silence  permitted  me  to  hear  muffled  blows 
under  us,  in  the  depths  of  the  earth.  I 
understood  that  the  French  miners  had  reached 
this  point  with  their  picks,  and  told  Augustine 
what  I  imagined  it  must  be.  He  listened 
attentively  ;  then  he  said  to  me,  — 

"  That  seems  indeed  like  mining.  But 
how  did  they  come  here  ?  The  galleries  that 
they  made  from  the  Jerusalem  were  all  cut  off 
by  ourselves.  How  would  they  be  able  to 
take  a  step  without  meeting  our  men  ?  " 

"  This  noise  indicates  that  they  are  mining 
from  San  Diego.     They  have  a  part  of  that 

300 


Saragossa 

building.  Until  now  they  have  not  been  able 
to  reach  the  wine-cellars  of  the  Convent  of 
San  Francisco.  If,  by  bad  luck,  they  have 
discovered  that  the  passage  from  San  Diego  to 
San  Francisco  is  easy  by  the  way  under  this 
house,  it  is  probable  that  this  is  the  passage 
that  is  being  opened  now." 

"  Run  this  instant  to  the  convent,"  he  said 
to  me.  "  Go  down  into  the  cellar,  and  if  you 
hear  the  noise,  tell  Renovales  what  is  going 
on.  If  anything  happens,  call  me,  and  I  will 
follow." 

Augustine  remained  alone  with  Mariquilla. 
I  went  to  the  San  Francisco,  and  going  down 
into  che  cellar  met,  together  with  other  patriots, 
an  official  of  the  engineers,  who,  when  I  had 
expressed  my  fears,  said  to  me, — 

"  They  would  not  be  able  to  get  here  by 
the  galleries  under  the  Calle  de  Santa  Engracia 
from  the  Jerusalem  and  the  hospital,  because 
our  mine  has  made  theirs  useless,  and  a  few 
of  our  men  will  be  able  to  keep  them  back. 
Under  this  edifice  we  control  the  underground 
chambers  of  the  church,  the  wine-cellars,  and 
the  other  cellars  which  lead  towards  the  cloister 
at  the  east.  There  is  a  part  of  the  convent 
which  has  not  been  mined,  at  the  west  and 
south  ;   but,  there  are  no  cellars  there,  and  we 

301 


Saragossa 

did  not  believe  it  worth  while  to  open  galleries, 
because  it  is  not  probable  that  they  would 
approach  us  from  the  two  sides.  We  hold 
the  next  house  ;  and  I  have  examined  it  under- 
ground, and  found  that  the  cellar  was  almost 
joined  to  those  of  the  chapter  house.  If  they 
controlled  the  house  los  Duendes,  it  would 
be  easy  to  carry  explosives  and  blow  up  all 
the  southern  and  western  part ;  but  that  house 
is  ours,  and  from  it  to  the  French  positions 
opposite  San  Diego  and  Santa  Rosa  is  a  long 
distance.  It  is  not  probable  that  they  will 
attack  us  in  that  place,  and  I  do  not  know 
that  there  is  any  existing  communication  be- 
tween the  house  and  San  Diego  or  Santa  Rosa 
which  would  permit  them  to  advance  without 
making  it  known." 

We  remained  talking  over  this  matter  until 
morning.  At  break  of  day  Augustine  came, 
very  happy,  and  saying  that  he  had  found 
a  lodging  for  Mariquilla  in  the  same  place 
where  his  family  was  established.  Then  we 
prepared  for  a  strong  effort  that  day,  because 
the  French,  who  already  held  the  hospital,  or 
rather  its  ruins,  threatened  to  attack  the  San 
Francisco,  not  by  the  underground  way,  but 
in  the  open,  and  by  the  light  of  the  sun. 


302 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE  possession  of  San  Francisco  would 
decide  the  fate  of  the  city.  That 
vast  edifice,  situated  in  the  middle  of  the 
Coso,  gave  an  incontestable  superiority  to  the 
side  which  occupied  it.  The  French  began 
cannonading  it  very  early,  with  the  intention 
of  opening  a  breach  for  the  assault ;  and  the 
Saragoc:,.ins  transferred  thither  the  greater  part 
of  their  forces  to  defend  it.  As  the  number  of 
soldiers  was  now  greatly  decreased,  a  large 
number  of  leading  citizens,  who  until  then  had 
not  served  except  as  aids,  took  up  arms. 
Cereso,  Sas,  La  Casa,  Pidrafita,  Escobar,  Leiva, 
Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  —  all  these  good  pa- 
triots hastened  to  be  among  them. 

In  the  narrow  entrance  of  the  Calle  de  San 
Gil,  and  in  the  archway  of  Cineja,  there  were 
cannon  to  restrain  the  enemy's  advance.  I  was 
sent  to  serve  these  pieces,  with  other  soldiers  of 
the  Estremadura  regiment,  because  there  were 
scarcely  any  artillerymen  left.  When  I  took 
leave  of  Augustine,  who  remained  in  the  San 

3^3 


Saragossa 

Francisco  in  the  face  of  the  enemy,  we  em- 
braced, believing  that  we  should  never  see  each 
other  again. 

Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  finding  himself  in 
the  barricade  of  La  Cruz  del  Coso,  got  a  gun- 
shot in  the  leg,  and  had  to  retire ;  but  leaning 
against  the  wall  of  a  house  next  to  the  arch  of 
Cineja,  he  kept  on  fighting  for  some  time,  until 
he  brought  on  a  hemorrhage,  and  at  last  find- 
ing himself  very  faint,  he  called  me,  and  said  to 
me, — 

"  Seiior  de  Araceli,  something  is  in  my  eyes. 
I  cannot  see  anything.  Curse  this  blood,  how 
fast  it  runs  out  when  it  is  most  necessary  to 
keep  it.     Won't  you  lend  me  a  hand  ?  " 

"  Senor,"  I  said,  running  to  him,  and  hold- 
ing him  up,  "  it  would  be  better  for  you  to 
retire  to  your  lodging." 

"  No,  here  is  where  I  want  to  be.  But, 
Senor  de  Araceli,  if  I  keep  on  bleeding,  where 
the  devil  is  all  this  blood  going  ?  It  seems  to 
me  as  if  my  legs  are  stuffed  with  cotton.  I 
am  falling  to  the  ground  like  an  empty  bag." 

He  made  tremendous  efforts  of  endurance, 
but  almost  lost  consciousness,  more  from  the 
serious  nature  of  his  wound,  than  merely  from 
loss  of  blood,  after  being  without  food  and 
sleep,  and  in  such    trouble  during  these   past 

304 


Saragossa 

days.  Although  he  begged  us  to  leave  him 
there  against  the  wall,  so  that  he  should  not 
miss  a  single  detail  of  the  battle,  we  carried 
him  to  his  lodging,  which  was  also  in  the  Coso, 
at  the  corner  of  the  Calle  del  Refugio.  The 
family  had  been  installed  in  an  upper  room. 
The  house  was  all  full  of  wounded,  and  the 
numbers  of  bodies  deposited  there  very  nearly 
obstructed  the  entrance.  It  was  difficult  to 
get  through  the  narrow  doorway  and  the  rooms 
within,  because  the  men  who  had  gone  there 
to  die,  crowded  the  place,  and  it  was  not  easy 
to  distinguisn  between  the  living  and  the  dead. 

Montoria  said,  when  we  entered  there, 
"  Don't  carry  me  upstairs,  boys,  where  my 
family  is.  Leave  me  here  below.  Here  I  see 
a  counter  which  just  suits  my  purpose." 

We  put  him  where  he  said.  This  lower 
story  was  a  shop.  Several  of  the  wounded 
and  victims  of  the  epidemic  who  had  died  that 
day  were  under  the  counter,  and  many  of  the 
sick  were  lying  upon  the  infected  ground  on 
pieces  of  cloth. 

"  Let  us  see,"  he  said, ''  if  there  is  any  charit- 
able soul  who  will  try  a  little  to  stop  the  gap 
where  the  blood  comes  out." 

A    woman    came    forward    to    care    for    the 
wounded  man.     It  was  Mariquilla  Candiola. 
20  305 


Saragossa 

"  God  bless  you,  child,"  said  Don  Jose,  see- 
ing that  she  was  bringing  lint  and  linen  to 
bandage  him.  "  Enough  for  now  that  you  patch 
up  this  leg  a  little.  I  don't  believe  there  are 
any  bones  broken." 

While  this  was  going  on,  some  twenty 
peasants  came  into  the  house  to  fire  from  the 
windows  upon  the  ruins  of  the  hospital. 

"  Senor  de  AraceH,  are  you  not  going  on 
firing  ?  Wait  a  moment  until  I  get  up,  for  I 
don't  seem  able  to  walk  alone.  I  command 
you  to  fire  from  the  window.  That  *s  a  good 
shot.  Don't  let  them  have  time  to  breathe 
over  there  at  the  hospital.  Look  here,  lass, 
make  haste  !  Have  n't  you  a  knife  ?  It  would 
be  a  good  thing  to  cut  off  this  piece  of  flesh 
that's  hanging.  How  goes  it,  Senor  de 
Araceli  ?     Are  we  going  to  win  ?  " 

"  It 's  going  all  right,"  I  answered  from  the 
window.  "  They  are  falling  back  at  the  hos- 
pital. San  Francisco  is  a  bone  that  is  a  little 
hard  to  pick." 

Mariquilla,  meanwhile,  was  looking  fixedly 
at  Montoria,  and  following  his  instructions  in 
caring  for  him  with  much  solicitude  and  deft- 
ness. 

"  You  are  a  jewel,  child,"  said  my  friend. 
"  It  seems  to  me  that  I  can  scarcely  feel  your 

306 


Saragossa 

hands  upon  my  wound.  But  what  makes  you 
look  at  me  so  much  ?  Does  my  face  look  like 
a  monkey's  ?  Let 's  see,  is  it  finished  ?  I  will 
try  to  get  up.  But  I  am  not  able  to  sit  up. 
What  sort  of  weak  water  is  this  in  mv  veins  ! 
Porr — I  was  going  to  say — I  don't  seem 
able  to  correct  that  bad  habit !  Senor  de 
Aracelij  I  don't  do  very  well  with  my  soul. 
How  goes  the  battle  ?  " 

"  Sefioi,  <x  thousand  marvels  !  Our  valiant 
peasants  are  working  wonders  !  " 

Here  a  wounded  officer  was  brought  in  for 
whom  a  ligature  was  wanted. 

"  Everything  goes  as  we  would  desire  it  to 
go,"  he  said  to  us.  "  They  will  not  take  San 
Francisco.  Those  in  the  hospital  have  been 
repulsed  three  times.  But  the  most  wonder- 
ful thing,  senors,  took  place  beside  San  Diego. 
I  saw  the  French  gain  the  orchard  joining  the 
house  Los  Duendes,  where  they  were  met  by 
the  bayonets  of  those  brave  soldiers  of  Ori- 
huela  commanded  by  Pino-Hermoso,  who  not 
only  dislodged  them,  but  they  say  killed  a  lot 
of  them,  and  took  thirty  prisoners." 

"  I  wish  to  go  there  !  Viva  the  battalion 
of  Orihuela !  Viva  the  Marquis  of  Pino- 
Hermoso  !  "  exclaimed  Don  Jose  de  Montoria, 
with  tremendous  fervor.     "  Senor  de  Araceli, 

307 


Saragossa 

let  us  go  there  !  Lift  me  up.  Is  n't  there 
a  pair  of  crutches  there  ?  Senors,  my  legs 
have  given  out.  But  I  will  go  there  in  spirit. 
My  heart  is  there.  Good-bye,  child,  beauti- 
ful little  nurse.  But  what  makes  you  look  at 
me  so  ?  Do  you  know  me  ?  I  think  I  have 
seen  your  face  somewhere,  but  I  don't  re- 
member where." 

"  I  also  have  seen  you  once,  only  once,'* 
answered  Mariqu ilia,  tactfully,  "and  God  grant 
you  do  not  remember  me  !  " 

"  I  shall  not  forget  your  kindness,"  said 
Montoria.  "  You  seem  to  be  a  good  girl,  and 
very  pretty,  that 's  sure.  I  am  very  grateful, 
most  grateful.  But  bring  those  crutches  or 
a  stick,  Senor  de  Araceli.  Give  me  your  arm. 
What  is  this  which  goes  back  and  forth  before 
my  eyes  ?  Let  us  go  over  there  and  drive 
the  French  out  of  the  hospital." 

Dissuading  him  from  his  rash  idea  of  going 
out,  I  started  alone,  when  I  heard  an  ex- 
plosion so  loud  that  no  words  have  power 
to  describe  it.  It  seemed  as  if  the  whole  city 
had  been  thrown  into  the  air  by  the  eruption 
of  an  immense  volcano  from  beneath  its  foun- 
dations. All  the  houses  trembled.  The  sky 
was  obscured  by  an  immense  cloud  of  smoke 
and  dust,  and  along  the  whole  length  of  the 

308 


Saragossa 

street  we  saw  pieces  of  wall  falling,  and  shattered 
fragments,  and  beams,  roofs,  tiles,  showers  of 
earth,  and  all  sorts  of  things. 

"  Holy  Virgin  del  Pilar,  save  us ! "  ex- 
claimed Montoria.  "  It  seems  as  if  the  whole 
w.orld  has  blown  up." 

The  sick  and  the  wounded  were  crying  out, 
believing  that  their  last  hour  had  come.  We 
all  commendea  ourselves  to  God. 

"  What  is  it  ?  Is  Saragossa  still  in  exis- 
tence ?  "  one  asked. 

"  Are  we  blown  up  too  ?  " 

"  This  terrible  explosion  must  have  been 
in  the  Convent  of  San  Francisco,"  said  I. 

"  Let  us  run  over  there,"  cried  Montoria, 
trying  to  make  strength  of  his  weakness. 
"  Senor  de  Araceli,  did  they  not  say  that  all 
precautions  had  been  taken  to  defend  San 
Francisco  ?  Is  n't  there  a  pair  of  crutches 
anywhere  here  ?  " 

We  went  into  the  Coso,  where  we  were 
immediately  assured  of  the  fact  that  a  large 
part  of  San   Francisco  had  been   blown  up. 

"  My  son  was  in  the  convent,"  said  Mon- 
toria, pale  as  the  dead.  "  My  God,  if  thou  art 
resolved  upon  his  death  also,  may  he  die  for 
his  country  at  the  post  of  honor." 

The  loquacious   beggar    of  whom    I    made 

309 


Saragossa 

mention  In  the  first  pages  now  approached  us, 
walking  laboriously  upon  his  crutches,  and 
seeming  in  a  very   bad  state  of  health. 

"  Sursum  Corda,"  I  said  to  the  patriot, 
"  give  me  your  crutches.  You  are  doing  no 
good  with  them." 

"  Do  me  the  kindness  to  let  me  keep  them 
to  get  to  that  doorway,"  said  the  cripple,  "  and 
then  1  will  give  them  to  you.  I  do  not  wish 
to  die  in  the  middle  of  the  street." 

"Are  you  dying  ?  " 

"  It  seems  like  it.  I  am  burning  with  fever. 
I  was  wounded  in  the  shoulder  yesterday,  and 
nobody  has  taken  out  the  ball.  I  feel  that 
I  am  going.  Your  honor  may  have  the 
crutches." 

"  Have  you  come  from  San  Francisco  }  " 

"  No,  sir,  I  was  in  the  Arch  del  Trenque. 
There  was  a  cannon  there.  We  had  been  fir- 
ing a  great  deal.  But  San  Francisco  has  been 
blown  into  the  air  when  we  least  expected  it. 
The  whole  part  to  the  south  and  the  west  came 
to  the  ground,  burying  many  people.  There 
has  been  treachery,  people  say.  Adios,  Seiior 
Don  Jose.  Here  I  stay.  My  eyes  are  get- 
ting dim.  My  tongue  thickens.  I  am  going, 
but  the  Virgin  del  Pilar  will  protect  me.  And 
here  your  honor  has  my  oars." 

310 


Saragossa 

With  them  Montoria  got  on  slowly  towards 
the  scene  of  the  catastrophe.  But  we  had  to 
go  around  by  the  Calle  San  Gil,  because  we 
could  not  get  through  directly.  The  French 
had  ceased  firing  upon  the  convent  from  the 
hospital ;  but,  assaulting  by  San  Diego,  they 
quickly  occupied  the  ruins,  which  we  could  not 
dispute  with  t^^m.  The  church  and  the  tower 
of  San  Francisco  remained  standing. 

"  Eh,  Father  Luengo,"  said  Montoria,  call- 
ing to  the  friar  of  that  name,  "  what  is  it  ? 
Where  is  the  Captain-General  ?  Has  he  per- 
ished in  the  ruins  ? " 

"  No,"  replied  the  friar,  stopping.  "  He  is 
with  officers  in  the  Plazuela  de  San  Felipe.  I 
can  announce  the  safety  of  your  son  Augustine 
to  you,  because  he  was  one  of  those  who  were 
occupying  the  tower." 

"  Blessed  be  God  !"  said  Don  Jose,  crossing 
himself 

"  All  the  part  at  the  south  and  the  west 
has  been  destroyed,"  proceeded  Luengo.  "  I 
do  not  know  how  they  have  been  able  to  mine 
in  that  place.  They  must  have  placed  the 
mines  under  the  chapter  house,  We  had  not 
mined  there,  beheving  that  it  was  a  safe  place." 

An  armed  peasant  who  had  come  up  said  : 

"  Yes,  and  we  had  the  next  house,  and  the 

3^1 


Saragossa 

French,  having  possession  of  parts  only  of 
Santa  Rosa  and  San  Diego,  could  not  readily 
approach  there/' 

"  As  far  as  that  is  concerned,"  said  an  armed 
priest  who  had  joined  us,  "  it  is  supposed  that 
they  have  found  a  secret  passage-way  between 
Santa  Rosa  and  the  house  los  Duendes.  Being 
in  possession  of  the  cellars  of  that,  they  could, 
by  digging  a  short  gallery,  get  under  the  chapter 
house,  which  is  quite  near." 

"  It  is  now  known,"  said  a  captain  of  the 
army.  "  The  house  los  Duendes  has  a  large 
cellar  of  which  we  knew  nothing.  From  this 
cellar  there  was  undoubtedly  a  communication 
with  Santa  Rosa.  The  house  formerly  belonged 
to  the  convent,  and  served  it  as  a  storehouse." 

"  Well,  if  this  communication  exists,"  said 
Luengo,  "  I  understand  perfectly  who  has  dis- 
covered it  to  the  French.  You  know  that 
when  the  enemy  was  repulsed  in  the  orchard 
of  San  Diego  some  prisoners  were  taken. 
Among  them  was  Candiola,  who  during  these 
past  days  has  often  visited  the  French  camp, 
and  last  night  went  over  to  the  enemy." 

"  It  must  be  so,"  said  Montoria  ;  "  because 
the  house  los  Duendes  belongs  to  Candiola. 
The  damned  Jew  knew  very  well  the  passage- 
ways and  hiding  places  of  that  building.    Senors, 

312 


Saragossa 

let  us  go  to  see  the  Captain-General.  Is  it  be- 
lieved that  the  Coso  can  still   be  defended  ? " 

"  Does  it  not  have  to  be  defended  ?  "  said  a 
soldier.  "  After  all,  it  is  only  a  trifle  which  has 
happened,  a  few  more  dead.  We  will  try  to 
regain  the  church  of  San  Francisco." 

We  all  looked  at  that  man  who  spoke  so 
serenely  of  the  impossible.  The  sublime  terse- 
ness of  his  expression  of  perseverance  seemed 
like  a  jest,  and  in  that  epoch  of  the  incredible, 
similar  jests  were  wont  to  end  in  reality. 

Let  those  who  hesitate  to  give  credence  to 
my  words  open  the  history,  and  they  will  see 
that  some  few  dozens  of  men,  wasted,  fam- 
ished, barefooted,  and  half-naked,  some  of  them 
wounded,  held  out  all  that  day  in  the  tower. 
Not  content  with  holding  it,  they  went  out 
over  the  roof  of  the  church,  opening  here  and 
there  many  places  in  the  roof,  and  paying  no 
attention  to  the  fire  directed  upon  them  from 
the  hospital,  they  began  to  throw  hand-grenades 
upon  the  French,  obliging  them  to  abandon  the 
church  when  night  came.  All  of  the  night 
was  passed  in  attempts  by  the  enemy  to  regain 
it ;  but  they  could  not  accomplish  it  until  the 
following  day,  v/hen  the  riflemen  on  the  roof 
retired,  passing  to  the  house  of  Sastago. 


3^3 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

WILL  Saragossa  surrender?  Death  to 
him  who  says  it ! 

Saragossa  will  not  surrender.  She  will  be 
reduced  to  powder.  Of  her  historic  houses, 
let  not  one  brick  remain  upon  another  !  Let 
her  hundred  temples  fall,  the  ground  beneath 
her  open,  pouring  out  flames ;  let  her  founda- 
tions be  hurled  into  the  air ;  let  her  roofs  fall 
into  the  pits  that  are  opened,  —  but  among  the 
fragments  and  the  dead  there  will  always  be 
one  tongue  left  alive  to  say  that  Saragossa  will 
never  surrender ! 

The  moment  of  supreme  despair  came. 
France  was  not  fighting  now,  but  mining.  It 
was  necessary  to  destroy  the  soil^  of  the  nation 
in  order  to  conquer  it.  Half  the  Coso  was 
hers,  but  Spain  retreated  only  to  the  opposite 
pavement.  By  Las  Tenerias  and  in  the  suburb 
on  the  left  they  had  obtained  some  advantages  ; 
and  their  little  mines  did  not  rest  for  an  instant. 

At  last — it  seems  like  a  "lie  —  we  became 
accustomed  to  the  explosions,  as  before  we  had 

314 


Saragossa 

become  accustomed  to  the  bombardment.  At 
worst  we  heard  a  noise  like  that  of  a  thousand 
thunder-claps  all  at  once.  What  has  happened? 
Nothing,  the  University,  the  Chapel  de  la 
Sangre,  the  Casa  de  Aranda,  such  a  convent  or 
chapel  exists  no  longer.  It  was  not  like  living 
on  our  peaceful  and  quiet  planet.  It  was  like 
having  the  birthplace  of  thunderbolts  for  a 
dwelling-place,  like  being  in  a  disordered  world, 
where  everything  was  heaving  up  and  unhing- 
ing. There  was  no  place  to  live,  because  the 
ground  was  no  longer  ground.  Under  every 
shrub  or  plant  a  crater  was  opening.  And  yet 
those  men  went  on  defending  themselves  against 
the  crushing  horrors  of  a  never-stilled  volcano 
and  a  ceaseless  tempest.  Lacking  fortresses, 
they  had  used  the  convents ;  lacking  convents, 
the  palaces  ;  when  the  palaces  failed,  the  humble 
houses.  There  were  still  some  partition  walls. 
They  did  not  eat  now.  Of  what  use,  when 
death  was  expected  from  one  moment  to  the 
next  ?  Thousands  of  men  perished  in  the  ex- 
plosions, and  the  epidemic  had  risen  to  its 
height  of  horror.  One  might  go  by  chance 
unharmed  through  the  shower  of  balls,  then 
on  turning  a  street  corner,  dreadful  chills  and 
fever  would  suddenly  take  possession  of  his 
frame,  and  in  a  little  while  he  would  be  dead. 

3^5 


Saragossa 

There  were  no  longer  kinsfolk  or  friends ;  men 
did  not  even  know  one  another,  their  faces 
blackened  by  smoke,  by  earth,  by  blood,  dis- 
figured, cadaverous.  Meeting  one  another  after 
a  combat  they  would  ask,  "Who  are  you  ?  " 

The  belfries  no  longer  sounded  the  alarm, 
because  there  were  no  bell-ringers.  One 
heard  no  more  the  proclamations  by  criers,  be- 
cause proclamations  were  no  longer  published. 
Mass  was  not  said,  because  there  were  no 
more  priests.  Nobody  sang  the  jota  now.  The 
voices  of  the  dying  people  were  husky  in  their 
throats.  From  hour  to  hour  a  funereal  silence 
was  conquering  the  city.  Only  the  cannon 
spoke.  The  advance  guards  of  the  two  nations 
no  longer  took  the  trouble  to  exchange  insults. 
Instead  of  madness,  everybody  was  full  of  sad- 
ness; and  the  dying  city  fought  on  in  silence,  so 
that  no  atom  of  strength  need  be  lost  in  idle 
words. 

The  necessity  of  surrender  was  now  the  gen- 
eral idea ;  but  none  showed  it,  guarding  it  in 
the  depths  of  conscience  as  he  would  conceal  a 
crime  which  he  was  about  to  commit.  Surren- 
der !  It  seemed  an  impossibility,  a  word  too 
difficult.     To  perish  would  be  easier ! 

One  day  passed  after  the  explosion  of  San 
Francisco ;  it  was  a  horrible  day  which  seemed 

316 


Saragossa 

to  have  no  existence  in  time,  but  only  in  the 
fanciful  realm  of  the  imagination.  I  had  been 
in  the  Calle  de  las  Arcadas  a  little  before  the 
greater  number  of  its  houses  fell.  I  ran  after- 
wards to  the  CosOj  to  fulfil  a  commission  with 
which  I  had  been  charged,  and  I  remember  that 
the  heavy  infected  air  choked  me  so  that  I  could 
scarcely  walk.  On  the  way  I  saw  the  same 
child  that  I  had  seen  several  days  before,  alone 
and  crying  in  the  quarter  of  Las  Tenerias.  He 
was  still  alone  and  crying,  and  the  poor  child 
had  his  hands  in  his  mouth  as  if  he  were  eating 
his  fingers.  In  spite  of  that,  nobody  noticed 
him.  I  also  passed  him  by  indifferently  ;  but, 
afterwards  a  little  voice  reproached  me,  and  I 
turned  back,  and  took  him  with  me,  giving  him 
some  bits  of  bread.  My  commission  accom- 
plished, I  ran  to  the  Plazuela  de  San  Felipe, 
where,  since  the  affair  of  Las  Arcadas,  were  the 
few  men  of  my  battalion  who  were  still  alive.  It 
was  now  night ;  and  although  there  had  been 
firing  in  the  Coso  between  one  sidewalk  and 
the  other,  my  comrades  were  held  in  reserve 
for  the  following  day,  because  they  were  drop- 
ping with  fatigue.  On  arriving,  I  saw  a  man 
who  wrapped  in  his  military  cloak  was  walk- 
ing up  and  down,  taking  notice  of  nobody.  It 
was  Augustine  Montoria. 

317      \ 


Saragossa 

"  Augustine,  is  it  thou  ?  "  I  asked,  going  up 
to  him.  "  How  pale  and  changed  thou  art? 
Have  they  wounded  thee  ?  " 

"  Let  me  alone,"  he  answered  bitterly,  "  I 
am  in  no  mood  for  comrades." 

"Are  you  mad?  What  has  happened  to 
you  r 

"  Leave  me,"  he  answered,  pushing  me  away, 
"  I  tell  you  that  I  want  to  be  alone.  I  do  not 
want  to  see  anybody." 

"  Friend  !  "  I  cried,  understanding  that  some 
terrible  trouble  was  on  the  soul  of  my  com- 
panion, "  if  misfortune  is  upon  you,  tell  it  to 
me,  and  let  me  share  your  sorrow." 

"  Do  you  not  know  it,  then  ?  " 

"  I  know  nothing.  You  know  that  I  was 
sent  with  twenty  men  to  the  Calle  de  las 
Arcades.  Since  yesterday,  since  the  explosion 
of  San  Francisco,  you  and  I  have  not  seen 
each  other." 

"  It  is  true,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  sought 
death  in  this  barricade  of  the  Coso,  and  death 
has  passed  me  by.  Numberless  comrades  fell 
beside  me,  and  there  was  not  one  ball  for 
me.  Gabriel,  my  dear  friend,  put  the  barrel 
of  one  of  your  pistols  to  my  temple  and  tear 
out  my  life.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  A  little 
while   ago    I    tried  to   kill  myself     I   do  not 

318 


Saragossa 

know — but  it  seemed  as  if  an  invisible  hand 
came  and  took  the  weapon  from  my  temple, 
then  another  hand,  soft  and  warm,  passed  over 
my  brow." 

"  Calm  yourself,  Augustine,  and  tell  me 
what  is  the  matter." 

"  What  the  matter  is  with  me  ?  What  time 
IS  It  r 

"  Nine  o'clock." 

"  It  lacks  an  hour,"  he  cried,  trembling 
nervously.  "  Sixty  minutes.  It  may  be  the 
French  have  mined  this  Plazuela  de  San  Felipe 
where  we  are,  and  perhaps  in  a  moment  the 
earth  will  leap  under  our  feet  and  open  a  hor- 
rible gulf  in  which  we  shall  all  be  buried,  — 
all,  the  victim  and  the  executioners." 

"  What  victim  is  that  ?  " 

"  The  unfortunate  Candiola.  He  is  shut 
up  in  the  Torre  Nueva." 

In  the  doorway  of  the  Torre  Nueva  there 
were  some  soldiers,  and  a  faint  light  illumined 
the  entrance. 

"  Of  course,"  I  said,  "  I  know  that  that 
infamous  old  man  was  taken  prisoner  with 
some  of  the  French  in  the  orchard  of  San 
Diego." 

"  His  crime  is  unquestioned.  He  showed  the 
enemy  the  passage,  known  to  him  alone,  from 

319 


Saragossa 

Santa  Rosa  to  his  house  los  Duendes.  Be- 
sides, there  being  no  lack  of  proof,  the  unhappy 
man  has  to-night  confessed  all,  in  the  hope  of 
saving  his  life." 

"  They  have  condemned  him  ?  '* 

"  Yes,  the  council  of  war  did  not  discuss  it 
long.  Candiola  will  be  shot  within  an  hour. 
There  he  is,  and  here  you  are.  Here  am  1, 
Gabriel,  captain  of  the  battalion  of  Las  Penas 
de  San  Pedro.  These  cursed  epaulets!  Here 
am  I  with  an  order  in  my  pocket  which  com- 
mands me  to  execute  the  sentence  at  ten 
o'clock  at  night  here  in  this  very  place,  in 
the  Plazuela  de  San  Felipe,  at  the  foot  of 
the  tower.  Do  you  see  it  ?  Do  you  see  this 
order  ?     It  is  signed  by  General  Saint  March." 

I  was  silent;  because  I  could  not  think  of 
one  word  to  say  to  my  companion  in  that 
terrible  hour. 

"  Courage,  my  friend  ! "  I  cried  at  last. 
"You  must  obey  the  order!" 

Augustine  did  not  hear  me.  He  acted  like 
a  madman,  and  tore  himself  away  from  me, 
only  to  return  a  second  later,  uttering  words 
of  desperation,  then  looking  at  the  tower 
which,  splendid  and  tall,  lifted  itself  above  our 
heads  crying  with  terror,  — 

"  Gabriel,  do  you  not  see  it  ?    Don't  you  see 

320 


Saragossa 

the  tower  ?  Don't  you  see  that  it  is  straight, 
Gabriel  ?     The  tower  has  been  made  straight ! " 

I  looked  at  the  tower,  and,  naturally,  the 
tower  was  still  leaning. 

"  Gabriel,"  said  Augustine,  "  kill  me  !  I 
do  not  want  to  live.  No,  I  will  not  take  life 
from  that  man.  1  ou  must  take  the  order. 
I,  if  I  live,  must  run  away.  I  am  sick.  I 
will  tear  off  these  epaulets,  and  throw  them  in 
the  face  of  General  Saint  March.  No,  do  not 
tell  me  that  the  Torre  Nueva  is  still  leaning. 
Why,  man,  do  you  not  see  that  it  is  straight  ? 
My  friend,  you  deceive  me.  My  heart  is 
pierced  as  by  red-hot  steel,  and  my  blood  burns 
within  me.      I  am  dying  of  the  pain." 

I  was  trying  to  console  him,  when  a  white 
figure  entered  the  plaza  by  the  Calle  de  Tor- 
resecas.  On  seeing  her  I  trembled,  for  it  was 
Mariquilla.  Augustine  did  not  have  time  to 
flee,  and  the  distressed  girl  embraced  him,  ex- 
claiming eagerly  in  her  emotion, — 

"  Augustine !  Augustine  !  thank  God,  I  have 
found  you  here !  How  much  I  love  you ! 
When  they  told  me  that  you  were  the  jailer 
of  my  father,  I  was  wild  with  delight,  for  I 
know  that  you  will  save  him.  Those  savages 
of  the  council  have  condemned  him  to  death. 
He  to  die  who   has    done   harm  to  no   one ! 

21  321 


Saragossa 

But  God  does  not  wish  the  innocent  to  perish, 
and  He  has  put  him  in  your  hands,  so  that  you 
may  let  him  escape  !  " 

"  Oh,  my  heart's  Mariquilla,"  said  Augus- 
tine, "  leave  me,  I  pray  you  !  I  don't  wish  to 
see  you.  To-morrow  —  to-morrow  we  will 
talk.  I  love  you,  too.  I  am  mad  for  you. 
Let  Saragossa  perish,  but  don't  leave  off  loving 
me  !     They  expected  me  to  kill  your  father." 

"  Oh,  God,  do  not  say  that  !  "  cried  the  girl. 
"  Thou  !  " 

"  No,  a  thousand  times  no  !  Let  others 
punish  his  treachery." 

"  No,  it  is  a  lie  !  My  father  is  not  a  traitor. 
Do  you  also  accuse  him  ?  I  never  have  be- 
lieved it.  Augustine,  it  is  night.  Untie 
his  hands  ;  take  off  the  fetters  that  hurt  his 
feet.  Set  him  at  liberty.  No  one  can  see. 
We  will  flee.  We  will  hide  ourselves  in  the 
ruins  of  our  house,  there  by  the  cypress  where 
so  many  times  we  have  seen  the  spire  of  the 
Torre  Nueva." 

"  Mariquilla,  wait  a  little,"  said  Montoria, 
with  great  agitation.  "  This  cannot  be  done 
so.  There  are  many  people  in  the  plaza. 
The  soldiers  are  greatly  incensed  against  the 
prisoner.     To-morrow — " 

"  To-morrow  !     What  do    you   say  ?     You 

322 


Saragossa 

are  laughing  at  me.  Set  him  at  liberty  this 
instant.  Augustine,  if  you  do  not  do  it,  I 
shall  believe  that  I  have  loved  the  most  vile, 
the  most  cowardly,  the  most  despicable  of 
men." 

"  Mariquilla,  God  hears  us.  God  knows 
that  I  adore  you.  By  Him  I  swear  that  I 
will  not  stain  my  hands  with  the  blood  of  this 
unhappy  man.  I  will  sooner  break  my  sword. 
But  —  in  the  name  of  God,  I  tell  you  also  that 
I  cannot  set  your  father  at  liberty.  Mari- 
quilla,  Heaven  is   against  us." 

"  Augustine,  you  are  deceiving  me,"  said  the 
girl,  anguished  and  bewildered.  "  Do  you  tell 
me  that  you  will  not  set  him  at  liberty  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  I  cannot.  If  God  should  come 
in  human  form  to  ask  of  me  the  freedom  of 
him  who  sold  our  heroic  peasants,  delivered 
them  up  to  the  French  sword,  I  would  not  do 
it.  It  is  a  supreme  duty,  in  which  one  cannot 
fail.  The  innumerable  victims  immolated  by 
his  treachery,  the  city  surrendered,  the  national 
honor  outraged,  are  things  which  weigh  too 
strongly  upon  my  conscience." 

"  My  father  cannot  have  done  this  deed  of 
treachery,"  she  said,  passing  at  once  from  grief 
to  an  exalted  and  nervous  anger ;  "  these  are  cal- 
umnies of  his  enemies.     They  lie  who  call  him 

323 


Saragossa 

traitor,  and  you,  more  cruel  and  more  inhuman 
than  all,  you  lie  also  !  It  is  not  possible  that  I 
have  loved  you  !  It  causes  me  shame  to  think 
of  it.  You  say  you  will  not  free  him  ?  Then 
of  what  good  are  you  ?  Do  you  hope  to  gain 
favor  by  your  bloody  cruelty  of  those  in- 
human barbarians  who  have  destroyed  the  city, 
imagining  that  they  were  defending  it  ?  To 
you  the  life  of  the  innocent  is  of  no  conse- 
quence, nor  the  desolation  of  an  orphan. 
Miserable,  ambitious  egoist,  I  abhor  you  more 
than  I  have  ever  loved  you  !  You  thought 
that  you  would  be  able  to  present  yourself 
before  me  with  your  hands  stained  with  the 
blood  of  my  father  ?  No,  he  is  not  a  traitor. 
You  are  traitors,  all  of  you.  My  God,  is  there 
no  generous  hand  to  help  me  ?  Among  so 
many  men,  is  there  not  even  one  to  prevent 
this  crime  ?  A  poor  woman  runs  through  all 
the  city  looking  for  a  friendly  soul,  and  does 
not  find  anything  but  wild  beasts.'* 

"  Mariquilla,"  said  Augustine,  "  you  are 
lacerating  my  soul.  You  ask  the  impossible 
of  me,  that  which  I  will  not  do,  and  cannot 
do,  although  you  offer  me  eternal  blessedness 
for  payment.  I  have  sacrificed  all,  and  I  knew 
that  you  would  abhor  me.  Think  what  it  is 
for  a  man  to  tear  out  his  own  heart  and  trample 

324 


Saragossa 

It  in  the  mud.  I  have  done  that.  I  can  do 
no  more/' 

The  fervent  exaltation  of  Mariquilla  Can- 
diola  carried  her  from  intense  anger  to  pathetic 
sensitiveness  of  suffering.  She  had  showed 
her  anger  with  fiery  heat,  now  she  burst  into 
bitter  tears,  expressing  herself  thus, — 

"  What  mad  things  I  have  said  !  And  what 
madness  hast  thou  said,  Augustine  !  How  I 
have  loved  you,  and  how  I  do  love  you  !  — 
from  the  time  I  saw  you  first  at  our  house. 
You  have  never  been  absent  from  my  thoughts 
for  a  moment.  You  have  been  to  me  the 
most  loving,  the  most  generous,  the  most 
thoughtful,  the  bravest  of  all  men.  I  loved 
you  without  knowing  who  you  were.  I  did  not 
know  your  name,  or  that  of  your  parents  ;  but 
I  would  have  loved  you  if  you  had  been  the 
son  of  the  hangman  of  Saragossa.  Augustine, 
you  have  forgotten  me  since  we  have  not  been 
together.  It  is  I,  Mariquilla.  I  have  all  this 
time  believed,  and  I  believe  now  that  you  will 
not  take  away  from  me  my  good  father  whom 
I  love  as  much  as  I  love  you.  He  is  good. 
He  has  not  hurt  anybody.  He  is  a  poor  old 
man.  He  has  some  faults ;  but  I  do  not  see 
them.  I  do  not  see  anything  in  him  but 
virtues.     I    never  knew  my  mother,  who  died 

325 


\ 


Saragossa 

when  I  was  very  small.  I  have  lived  retired 
from  the  world.  My  father  has  brought  me 
up  in  solitude.  In  solitude  the  great  love  that 
I  bear  you  has  been  nourished.  If  I  had 
never  known  you,  the  whole  world  would  have 
been  nothing  to  me  without  him  !  '* 

I  could  read  clearly  Montoria's  indecision  in 
his  face.  He  was  looking  with  terrified  eyes, 
now  at  the  girl,  now  at  the  sentinels  at  the 
entrance  of  the  tower.  The  daughter  of 
Candiola,  with  admirable  instinct,  knew  how  to 
make  use  of  that  evidence  of  weakness.  Throw- 
ing her  arms  around  his  neck,  she  cried,  — 

"  Augustine,  set  him  at  liberty  !  We  will 
hide  where  no  one  can  find  us.  If  they  say 
anything  to  you,  if  they  accuse  you  of  having 
failed  in  duty,  do  not  take  any  notice  of  them. 
Come  with  me.  How  my  father  will  love  you, 
seeing  you  have  saved  his  life  !  Then  what 
happiness  is  before  us,  Augustine.  How  good 
you  are  !  I  was  expecting  it,  and  when  I  knew 
that  the  poor  prisoner  was  in  your  hands,  I  felt 
the  gates  of  heaven  were  open  !  " 

My  friend  took  a  few  steps,  then  drew  back. 
There  were  plenty  of  soldiers  and  armed  men 
in  the  plazuela.  Suddenly  there  appeared 
before  us  a  man  on  crutches,  accompanied  by 
several  officials  of  high  rank. 

326 


Saragossa 

"  What  is  going  on  here  ?  "  asked  Don  Jose 
de  Montoria.  "  It  seemed  to  me  I  heard  the 
cries  of  a  woman.  Augustine,  are  you  weeping  ? 
What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Seiior,"  said  Mariquilla,  in  alarm,  turning 
to  Montoria.  "You  will  not  at  all  oppose 
their  setting  my  father  at  liberty  ?  Do  you 
not  remember  me  ?  You  were  wounded  yes- 
terday, and  I  cared  for  you." 

"  It  is  true,  child,"  said  Don  Jose  gravely ; 
"  I  am  very  grateful.  Now  I  see  that  you  are 
the  daughter  of  Senor  Candiola." 

"  Yes,  sir.  Yesterday,  when  I  was  attending 
you,  I  recognized  in  you  the  man  who  ill-treated 
my  father  some  time  ago." 

"Yes,  my  daughter,  it  was  a  sudden  thing  — 
a  hasty  —  I  can't  help  it.  I  have  very  quick 
blood.  And  you  took  care  of  me  ?  That  is  the 
way  good  Christians  do,  returning  good  for  evil, 
paying  back  injuries  with  benefits,  and  to  do  good 
to  them  that  hate  us  is  what  God  commands." 

"  Seiior,"  exclaimed  Mariquilla,  dissolved  in 
tears.  "  I  forgive  my  enemies.  Do  you  also 
forgive  yours  ?  Why  do  they  not  free  my 
father  ?      He  has  not  done  anything." 

"  This  thing  that  you  ask  is  a  little  difficult,  k 
The  treachery  of  Senor  Candiola  is  unpardon-  | 
able.     The  troops  are  furious."  j 

327 


Saragossa 

"  It  is  all  a  mistake.  If  you  would  inter- 
cede !  You  must  be  one  of  the  command- 
ers. 

"  I  !  "  said  Montoria,  "  that  is  a  business 
which  does  not  rest  on  me.  But  calm  your- 
self, young  woman.  You  seem  to  be  a  good 
girl ;  truly,  I  remember  the  attention  with  which 
you  took  care  of  me,  and  such  goodness  touches 
my  soul.  I  did  you  a  great  wrong,  and  from  the 
the  same  person  whom  I  injured  I  received  a 
great  good,  perhaps  life  itself  In  such  ways 
God  teaches  us  to  be  humble  and  charitable, 
porr  —  I  was  just  going  to  let  it  go,  this  cursed 
tongue  of  mine  !  '* 

"  Senor,  how  good  you  are  !  ''  cried  the  girl ; 
"  and  I  thought  you  were  very  bad.  You  will 
help  me  to  save  my  father.  He  does  not  lay 
up  the  outrage  he  received.** 

"  Listen,"  said  Montoria,  taking  her  by  the 
arm.  "  Not  long  ago  I  asked  pardon  of  Senor 
Don  Jeronimo  for  all  that ;  and  far  from  being 
reconciled  with  me,  he  insulted  me  in  the  most 
gross  manner.  He  and  I  do  not  pull  together, 
child.  If  you  tell  me  that  you  forgive  me  that 
matter  of  the  blows,  my  conscience  will  be  free 
of  a  great  weight." 

"  Indeed,  there  is  nothing  for  me  to  forgive 
you.     Oh,  senor,  how  good  you   are !     You 

328 


Sarag 


ossa 


command  here  surely.     Then  cause  my  father 
to  be  set  free  !  " 

"  That  is  none  of  my  business.  Senor  Can- 
diola  has  committed  a  terrible  crime.  It  is 
impossible  to  pardon  him,  impossible !  I 
understand  your  affliction,  and  truly  I  feel  it, 
especially  in  remembering  your  kindness.  I 
will  protect  you.     We  shall  see." 

"  I  do  not  wish  for  anything  for  myself,"  said 
Mariquilla,  whose  voice  was  now  hoarse  with 
her  emotion.  "  I  only  wish  that  an  unfortu- 
nate man  who  has  done  nothing  should  be  set 
at  liberty.  Augustine,  are  you  not  in  com- 
mand here  ?  What  are  you  doing  ?  " 

"  This  young  man  will  do  his  duty,"  said 
Montoria. 

"  This  young  man,"  cried  Mariquilla,  angrily, 
"will  do  what  I  bid  him,  because  he  loves  me. 
Is  n*t  it  true  that  you  will  free  my  father  ^ 
You  said  you  would.  Senors,  what  are  you  here 
for  ?  Do  you  intend  to  stop  him  ?  Augustine, 
do  not  pay  any  attention  to  them  ;  defend  us  !  " 

"  What  is  all  this  ?  "  exclaimed  Montoria,  in 
amazement.  "  Augustine,  have  you  told  this 
girl  that  you  have  any  idea  of  failing  in  your 
duty  ?     Do  you  know  her  ?  " 

Augustine,  overcome  by  his  fear,  answered 
nothing. 

329 


Saragossa 

"Yes,  he  will  set  him  at  liberty,"  said 
Mariquilla,  in  despair.  "  Go  away  from  here, 
seiiors.     You  have  no  business  here/* 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  ?  "  cried  Don 
Jose,  seizing  his  son  by  his  arm.  "  If  what 
this  girl  says  should  be  true,  if  I  could 
imagine  that  my  son's  honor  could  fail  in 
this  fashion,  his  loyalty  sworn  to  his  flag 
be  trampled  underfoot,  —  if  I  supposed  that 
my  son  could  make  light  of  the  orders  with 
whose  fulfilment  he  has  been  charged,  I  my- 
self would  tie  him  and  drag  him  before  the 
council  of  war  that  he  might  get  his  just 
reward." 

"Seiior,  oh,  my  father,"  said  Augustine,  pale 
as  death,  "  I  have  never  thought  of  failing  in 
my  duty." 

"  Is  that  your  father  ? "  said  Mariquilla. 
"  Augustine,  tell  him  that  you  love  me,  and 
perhaps  he  will  have  compassion  on  me." 

"This  girl  is  mad,"  said  Don  Jose.  "Un- 
happy child,  your  trouble  touches  my  heart. 
I  charge  myself  with  protecting  you  in  your 
orphanhood.  Yes,  I  will  protect  you  as  long  as 
you  reform  your  habits.  Poor  little  one,  you 
have  a  good  heart,  an  excellent  heart.  But,  — 
yes  —  I  have  heard,  a  little  inclined  to  be 
giddy.      It    is    a    pity    that    by    being    badly 

33^ 


Saragossa 

brought  up  a  good  soul  should  be  lost.     But 
you  will  be  good  ?      I  think  you  will  !  " 

"Augustine,  how  can  you  permit  me  to  be 
Insulted  ?  "  said  Mariquilla,  with  overwhelming 
grief. 

"  It  is  not  insult,"  said  the  father,  "  it  is 
good  counsel.  How  could  I  insult  my  bene- 
factress ?  I  believe  that  if  you  behave  yourself 
well,  we  shall  have  a  great  affection  for  you. 
Remain  under  my  protection,  poor  orphan. 
Why  do  you  talk  so  to  my  son  ?  It  is  nothing, 
nothing  ;  have  better  sense  ;  and  enough  for 
now  of  all  this  agitation.  The  lad  perhaps 
knows  you.  Yes,  I  have  been  told  that  during 
the  siege  you  have  not  left  the  company  of  the 
soldiers.  Now  you  must  reform.  I  charge 
myself —  I  cannot  forget  the  kindness  I  have 
received.  And  besides  I  know  that  you  are 
good  at  heart.  That  is  not  a  deceitful  face. 
You  have  a  heavenly  form.  But  it  is  neces- 
sary to  renounce  worldly  enjoyments,  refrain 
from  vice  —  then  —  " 

"  No !  "  cried  Augustine,  suddenly,  with  so 
lively  an  outburst  of  anger  that  all  of  us 
trembled  at  seeing  him  and  hearing  him.  "  No ! 
I  will  not  consent  that  any  one,  not  even  my 
father,  should  insult  her  before  me.  I  love 
her  !     And  if  I  have  concealed  it  before,  I  tell 

33^ 


Saragossa 

it  now,  without  fear  or  shame,  for  all  the  world 
to  know  !  Sir,  you  do  not  know  what  you  are 
saying,  nor  how  you  miss  the  truth  !  You 
have  been  deceived.  You  may  kill  me,  if  I 
fail  in  respect,  but  do  not  defame  her  before 
me;  because  if  I  should  hear  again  what  I  have 
heard,  not  even  the  fact  that  you  are  my  own 
father  could  restrain  me  !  " 

Montoria,  not  expecting  this,  looked  about 
in  amazement  at  his  friends. 

"  Good,  Augustine  ! "  ciied  Mariquilla. 
"  Do  not  pay  any  attention  to  these  people. 
This  man  is  not  your  father.  Do  what  your 
heart  tells  you  to  do.  Go  away,  senors !  Go 
away  ! " 

"You  are  mistaken,  Mariquilla,"  replied  the 
young  man  ;  "  I  have  not  intended  to  free  the 
prisoner,  nor  shall  I  do  so ;  but  at  the  same 
time  I  tell  you  that  it  will  not  be  I  who  will 
take  his  life.  There  are  officers  in  my  battalion 
who  will  carry  out  the  order.  I  am  no  longer 
a  soldier.  Although  we  are  in  the  face  of 
the  enemy,  I  break  my  sword,  and  hasten  to 
the  Captain-General  that  he  may  decide  my 
fate." 

As  he  said  this,  he  drew  his  sword,  and, 
doubling  the  blade  across  his  knee,  he  broke 
it,  and  after  throwing  the  two  pieces  into  the 

332 


Saragossa 

middle  of  our  circle,  he  went  without  another 
word. 

"  I  am  all  alone  !  There  is  no  one  to  help 
me  !  "  cried  Mariquilla,  faintly. 

"  Gentlemen,  pay  no  attention  to  the  affairs 
of  my  son.  I  will  take  that  upon  myself. 
Perhaps  the  girl  has  interested  him.  That  is 
of  little  consequence.  These  inexperienced 
ecclesiastics  are  very  likely  to  be  taken  in. 
And  youj  Sefiora  Doiia  Mariquilla,  try  to  calm 
yourself.  We  will  look  after  you.  I  promise 
you  that,  if  you  behave  yourself,  you  will  later 
enter  into  repentance.  Come,  let  us  take  her 
away  from  here  !  " 

"  No,  no  !  nobody  shall  tear  me  away  from 
here,  except  in  bits,"  said  the  girl,  with  the 
calmness  of  despair.  ''  Oh,  Seiior  Don  Jose  de 
Montoria,  will  you  not  ask  them  to  pardon 
my  father?  If  he  would  not  forgive  you,  I 
forgive  you  a  thousand  times.      But  —  " 

"  I  cannot  do  what  you  ask  of  me,"  said  the 
patriot,  sadly.  "  The  crime  committed  is 
enormous.  You  must  go  away.  What  terri- 
ble grief!  It  is  necessary  to  resign  yourself. 
God  will  pardon  you  all  your  faults,  poor 
orphan.  Rely  upon  me,  and  all  that  I  can  do 
—  we  will  take  care  of  you.  We  will  help  you. 
I  am  moved  not  by  gratitude  alone    but   by 

333 


Saragossa 

pity.     Come,    come  with  me.      It   lacks   only 
a   quarter   to  ten.'* 

"  Senor  Montoria/'  said  Mariquilla,  kneeling 
before    the    patriot,    and    kissing    his     hands, 
"  you  have  influence  in  the  city,  and  can  save 
my   father.     You   are  angry  with   me   because 
Augustine  said  he  loved  me.      No,  I  will  not 
love   him.     I  will  not  see   him   any  more.     I 
am  an  honest  girl ;  but  he  is  above  me,  and  I 
cannot    think    of    marrying    him.       Senor    de 
Montoria,  by  the  soul  of  your  dead  son,  help 
me  !      My  father  is  innocent.      No,  it  is   not 
possible  that  he  could  have  been  a  traitor.     If 
the  Holy  Spirit  should  tell  me,  I  would  not  be- 
lieve it.     They  say  that  he  was  no  patriot.     I 
say  it  is  a  lie.     They  say  that  he  did  not  give 
anything  for  the  war  ;  but  now  everything  that 
we  have  shall  be  given.     There  is  a  great  deal 
of  money  buried  in  the  cellar  of  the  house.     I 
will  tell  you  where  it  is,  and  they  can  take  it 
all.     They  say  that  he  has  not  taken  up  arms. 
I  will  take  arms  now.     I  am  not  afraid  of  the 
balls.     The  noise  of  the  cannon  does  not  ter- 
rify me.      I  am  not  afraid  of  anything.      I  will 
run  to  the  places  of  greatest  danger,  and  there, 
where  the  men  can  do  nothing,  I  will  go  into 
the  fire.     I  will  dig  in  the  mines  with  my  own 
hands,  and  make  holes  for  the  powder  under 

334 


Saragossa 

all  the  ground  occupied  by  the  French.  Tell 
me  if  there  is  some  castle  to  take,  or  some  wall 
to  defend ;  because  I  fear  nothing,  and  of  all 
living  beings  in  Saragossa,  I  shall  be  the  last 
to  surrender." 

"  Unhappy  girl!"  said  the  patriot,  lifting  her 
from  the  ground,  "  let  us  go,  let  us  go  from 
here  !  " 

"  Seiior  de  Araceli,"  said  the  head  of  our 
forces,  who  was  present,  "  as  Captain  Augus- 
tine Montoria  is  not  in  his  place,  you  are  in- 
trusted with  the  command  of  this  company." 

"  No,  assassins  of  my  father  !  "  exclaimed 
Mariquilla,  furious  as  a  lion  ;  "  you  shall  not 
kill  the  innocent !  Cowards  !  Executioners  ! 
You  are  the  traitors,  not  he  !  You  cannot 
conquer  your  enemies,  so  you  enjoy  taking  life 
from  an  unfortunate  old  man.  Soldiers,  how 
can  you  talk  of  your  honor,  when  you  do  not 
know  what  honor  is?  Augustine,  where  art 
thou  !  Seiior  Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  this  is  a 
contemptible  vengeance  planned  by  you,  a 
spiteful  and  heartless  man  !  My  father  has 
done  wrong  to  no  one,  and  you  tried  to  rob 
him.  He  was  right  in  not  wishing  to  give  you 
his  flour,  for  you  who  call  yourselves  patriots 
are  tradesmen  who  speculate  in  the  misfortunes 
of  the  city.      I  cannot  extort  from  these  cruel 

335 


Saragossa 

men  one  compassionate  word.  Men  of  brass, 
barbarians  !  My  father  is  innocent,  and  if  he 
were  not,  he  would  have  done  well  in  selling 
such  a  city.  They  would  easily  give  more 
than  you  are  worth.  But  is  there  not  one,  one 
single  one,  to  pity  him  and  me  ?  " 

"Come,  let  us  take  her  away,  let  us  carry 
her  off,  seiiors,"  said  Montoria.  "  This  cannot 
be  prolonged.  What  has  my  son  done  with 
himself?  " 

They  took  her  away,  and  for  a  time  I  could 
hear  her  heart-rending  cries. 

"  Good-night,  Senor  de  Araceli,"  said  Mon- 
toria to  me.  "  I  am  going  to  see  if  I  can  get 
a  little  wine  and  water  for  this  poor  orphan." 


33^ 


CHAPTER   XXX 

HORRIBLE  nightmare,  leave  me  !  I  do 
not  wish  to  sleep.  But  the  bad  dream 
which  I  long  to  fling  from  my  remembrance 
returns  to  distress  me.  I  wish  I  could  blot 
from  my  memory  the  melancholy  scene.  But 
one  night  passes,  and  then  another,  and  the 
scene  is  not  blotted  out.  I,  who  on  so 
many  occasions  have  faced  great  dangers 
without  winking  an  eyelash,  I  tremble  now, 
and  the  cold  sweat  comes  on  my  forehead. 
The  sword  bathed  in  French  blood  falls  from 
my  hand,  and  I  shut  my  eyes  in  order  not  to 
see  what  passes  before  me.  In  vain  I  hurl 
thee  away,  dreadful  vision  !  I  expel  thee,  and 
thou  dost  return.  Thou  art  fast  rooted  in  my 
memory.  No,  I  am  not  capable  of  taking  the 
life  of  a  fellow-being  in  cold  blood,  though  in- 
exorable duty  commands  it.  Why  did  I  not 
tremble  in  the  trenches  as  I  tremble  now  ?  I 
feel  a  mortal  chill.  By  the  light  of  lanterns 
I  see  sinister  faces,  one  above  all  livid  and 
sullen,  that  shows  a  terror  greater  than  all  other 
"  337 


Saragossa 

terrors.  How  the  barrels  of  the  guns  gleam  ! 
All  is  ready,  and  but  one  word  is  lacking,  my 
word.  I  try  to  pronounce  the  word,  and  I  bite 
my  tongue.  No,  that  word  will  never  come 
from  my  lips  ! 

Away  from  me,  black  nightmare  !  I  shut 
my  eyes.  I  draw  my  eyelids  closer,  better  to 
exclude  thee,  and  the  closer  they  are  shut  the 
plainer  I  see  thee,  horrible  picture  !  They  all 
wait  with  anxiety  ;  but  nothing  is  comparable 
to  the  state  of  my  soul,  rebelling  against  the 
law  which  obliges  it  to  decide  the  end  of  an- 
other's existence.  Time  passes,  then  eyes 
which  I  wish  I  had  never  seen  disappear  under 
the  bandage.  I  cannot  look  at  the  scene ; 
would  that  they  had  put  a  bandage  over  my 
eyes  also  !  The  soldiers  look  at  me,  and  I 
frown  to  hide  my  cowardice.  We  mortals  are 
stupid  and  vain  even  in  supreme  moments. 
The  by-standers  jested  at  my  state,  and  that 
gave  me  a  certain  energy.  I  unglued  my 
tongue  from  my  palate,  and  cried,  — 

"  Fire ! " 

The  accursed  nightmare  will  not  go,  and  tor- 
ments me  to-night  as  it  did  last  night,  bringing 
again  before  me  that  which  I  do  not  wish  to 
see.  It  is  better  not  to  sleep.  I  prefer  wake- 
fulness to  this.     I  shake  off  the  lethargy,  and 

338 


Saragossa 

dread  my  vigil  as  before  I  abhorred  the  dream. 
Always  the  same  humming  of  the  cannon. 
Those  insolent  brass  mouths  do  not  cease  to 
talk. 

Ten  days  pass,  and  Saragossa  has  not  yet 
surrendered,  because  some  madmen  are  still 
persistent  in  guarding  for  Spain  that  heap  of 
dust  and  ashes.  The  houses  go  on  falling ; 
and  France,  after  establishing  one  foot,  wastes 
armies  and  quintals  of  powder  in  gaining 
ground  on  which  to  set  the  other.  Spain  will 
not  give  up  as  long  as  she  has  one  paving-stone 
to  serve  as  a  lever  for  the  immense  machine  of 
her  bravery.  I  am  almost  lifeless.  I  cannot 
mov^e.  Those  men  I  see  passing  before  me 
do  not  seem  to  be  men.  They  are  languid 
and  emaciated,  and  their  faces  would  be  yellow, 
if  dust  and  powder  had  not  blackened  them. 
Eyes  gleam  under  blackened  eyebrows,  —  eyes 
that  do  not  yet  know  how  to  look  without 
taking  aim.  Men  are  covered  with  unclean 
rags,  and  cloths  are  bound  about  their  heads. 
They  are  so  filthy  that  they  seem  like  the 
dead  raised  from  that  heap  in  the  Calle  de  la 
Imprenta,  to  show  themselves  among  the  liv- 
ing. From  time  to  time  among  the  smoky 
columns  these  dying  ones  come,  and  the 
friars  murmur  religious    consolation  to    them. 

339 


Saragossa 

Neither  the  dying  understand,  nor  the  friar 
knows  what  he  says.  Religion  itself  goes  half 
mad.  Generals,  soldiers,  peasants,  priests,  and 
women  are  all  overwhelmed.  There  are  no 
classes  or  sexes.  The  city  is  defended  in 
anarchy. 

I  do  not  know  what  happened  me.  Do 
not  ask  me  to  go  on  v/ith  the  story,  for  there 
is  nothing  more  to  tell.  That  which  I  see 
before  my  memory  does  not  seem  real,  the 
true  things  being  confused  in  my  memory 
with  those  dreamed. 

I  was  stretched  out  in  a  gateway  of  the 
Calle  de  la  Albarderia,  shaking  with  cold,  my 
left  hand  wrapped  in  a  bloody,  dirty  cloth. 
The  fever  burned  me,  and  I  longed  for  strength 
to  hasten  to  the  front.  They  were  not  all 
corpses  beside  me.  I  reached  out  my  hand 
and  touched  the  arm  of  a  friend  who  was  still 
living. 

"  What  is  going  on,  Senor  Sursum  Corda  ?  " 

''  It  seems  that  the  French  are  on  this 
side  of  the  Coso,"  he  answered  me,  in  a 
feeble  voice.  "  They  have  blown  up  half 
of  the  city.  May  be  we  shall  have  to  sur- 
render. The  Captain-General  has  fallen  ill 
with  the  epidemic,  and  is  in  the  Calle  de  Predi- 
cadores.     They  think  he  is  going  to  die.     The 

340 


Sarago 


ssa 


French  will  enter.  I  rejoice  that  I  shall  die 
before  I  see  that.  How  do  you  find  yourself, 
Senor  de  Araceli  ?  " 

"  Very  bad  off.      I  will  see  if  I  can  get  up." 

"  I  am  alive  yet,  it  seems.  I  did  not  think 
I  should  be.  The  Lord  be  with  me,  I  shall 
go  straight  to  heaven.  Seiior  de  Araceli,  have 
you  died  yet  ?  " 

I  got  up  and  took  a  few  steps.  Leaning 
against  the  walls,  I  advanced  a  little  and  came 
to  the  Orphanage.  Some  military  officers  of 
high  rank  were  accompanying  a  short,  slender 
ecclesiastic  to  the  door,  who  dismissed  them, 
saying,  "We  have  done  our  duty,  and  human 
strength  can  compass  nothing  more."  It  was 
Father  Basilio.  A  friendly  arm  held  me  up, 
and  I  recognized  Don  Roque. 

"  Gabriel,  my  friend,"  he  said  to  me,  in 
deep  affliction,  "  the  city  surrenders  this  very 
day." 

"  What  city  ?  " 

"  This." 

As  he  said  so,  it  seemed  to  me  as  if  nothing 
remained  ^in  its  place.  Men  and  houses  all 
ran  together  confusedly.  The  Torre  Nueva 
seemed  to  draw  itself  up  to  flee  also,  and  in 
the  distance  its  leaden  casque  fell  from  it. 
The  flames    of  the   city  no    longer    gleamed. 

341 


Saragossa 

Columns  of  black  smoke  moved  from  east 
to  west.  Powder  and  ashes,  raised  by  the 
whirling  winds,  moved  in  the  same  direction. 
The  sky  was  no  longer  the  sky,  but  a  leaden 
canopy,  strangely  agitated. 

"  Everything  is  fleeing ;  everything  is  going 
from  this  place  of  desolation,"  I  said  to  Don 
Roque.     "  The  French  will  find  nothing." 

"  Nothing.  To-day  they  enter  by  the 
Puerta  del  Angel.  They  say  that  the  capit- 
ulation has  been  honorable.  Look,  here 
come  the  spectres  who  defend   the  plaza  ! " 

Indeed  along  the  Coso  filed  the  last  com- 
batants, one  for  every  thousand  of  those  who 
had  faced  the  bullets  and  the  epidemic.  There 
were  fathers  without  sons,  brothers  without 
brothers,  husbands  without  wives.  He  who 
cannot  find  his  own  among  the  living  is  not 
at  all  sure  of  finding  them  among  the  dead, 
because  there  are  fifty-two  thousand  corpses, 
almost  all  piled  in  the  streets,  the  doorways, 
the  cellars,  the  ditches.  The  French,  on 
entering,  halted  affrighted  at  such  a  spectacle, 
and  were  almost  on  the  point  of  retreating. 
Tears  streamed  from  their  eyes,  and  they  asked 
whether  these  were  men  or  shadows,  these 
poor  creatures  who  fled  at  sight  of  them. 

A  volunteer  on  entering  his  house  stumbled 

342 


Saragossa 

over  the  bodies  of  his  wife  and  children.  A 
wife  ran  to  the  wall,  to  the  trench,  to  the  barri- 
cade to  look  for  her  husband  ;  but  no  one  knew 
where  he  was.  The  thousands  of  the  dead 
did  not  speakj  and  could  not  tell  whether  her 
Fulano  was  among  them.  Many  large  fam- 
ilies were  exterminated,  not  one  member  was 
left.  This  saves  many  tears  when  death  strikes 
with  one  blow  the  father  and  the  orphan,  the 
husband  and  the  widow,  the  victim  and  the 
eyes  that  would  have  been  forced  to  weep. 

France  had  at  last  set  foot  within  that  city 
built  on  the  banks  of  the  classic  river  which 
gives  its  name  to  our  peninsula. 

They  had  conquered  it  without  subduing  it. 
On  seeing  the  desolation  of  Saragossa,  the 
Imperial  army  considered  itself  the  grave- 
diggers  of  the  heroic  inhabitants,  instead  of 
their  conquerors.  Fifty-three  thousand  lives 
were  contributed  by  this  Aragonese  city  to 
those  of  the  millions  of  creatures  wherewith 
humanity  paid  for  the  military  glories  of  the 
French  Empire.  This  sacrifice  will  not  prove 
fruitless,  for  it  was  a  sacrifice  for  an  idea. 
The  French  Empire,  —  a  vain  thing,  a  thing  of 
circumstance,  founded  on  fickle  fortune,  in 
audacity  and  the  military  genius  that  is  always 
a  second-rate  quality  when  separated  from  ser- 

343 


Saragossa 

vice  of  the  ideal,  —  this  empire  existed  merely 
by  its  own  self-worship.  The  French  Empire 
—  I  say,  that  tempest  which  disturbed  the  first 
years  of  the  century,  and  whose  lightnings  and 
thunderbolts  held  Europe  in  terror  —  passed, 
as  tempests  pass.  The  normal  state  in  his- 
toric life,  as  in  nature,  is  that  of  calm.  We  all 
saw  it  pass,  and  we  viewed  its  death-agony  in 
1 8 15.  We  saw  its  resurrection  a  few  years 
afterwards,  but  that  also  passed,  overthrown 
by  its  own  weight  of  pride.  Perhaps  this  old 
tree  will  sprout  the  third  time ;  but  it  will  not 
give  grateful  shade  to  the  world  during  cen- 
turies, and  will  scarcely  serve  for  mankind  to 
warm  itself  by  its  last  bits  of  wood. 

That  which  has  not  passed,  nor  shall  pass,  is 
the  idea  of  nationality  which  Spain  defended 
against  the  right  of  conquest  and  usurpation. 
When  other  peoples  succumbed,  she  main- 
tained her  right,  defended  it,  and,  sacrificing 
her  own  life-blood,  hallowed  it  as  martyrs 
hallowed  the  Christian  idea  in  the  arena. 
The  result  is  that  Spain,  depreciated  unjustly 
in  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  disprized  with 
reason  for  her  civil  wars,  her  bad  governors, 
her  disorders,  her  bankruptcy  more  or  less  de- 
clared, her  immoral  treaties,  her  extravagances, 
her    bull-fights,    and    her    proclamations,    has 

344 


Sarao-ossa 

o 

never  since  1808  seen  the  continuation  of  her 
nationality  placed  in  any  doubt.  Even  to-day, 
when  it  seems  that  we  have  reached  the  last 
degree  of  abasement,  offering  more  chance 
than  Poland  for  dismemberment,  no  one  dares 
attempt  the  conquest  of  this  house  of  madmen. 
Men  of  little  sense,  —  without  any  on  occasion, 
—  the  Spanish  will  to-day,  as  ever,  die  a 
thousand  deaths,  stumbling  and  rising  in  the 
struggle  of  their  inborn  vices  with  the  great 
qualities  which  they  still  preserve,  with  those 
which  they  acquire  slowly,  and  those  which  Cen- 
tral Europe  sends  them.  Providence  holds  in 
store  for  this  people  great  advancings  and  abase- 
ments, great  terrors  and  surprises,  apparent 
deaths  and  mighty  resurrections.  Her  destiny 
is  to  be  able  to  live  in  agitation  like  a  salaman- 
der in  fire ;  but  her  national  permanancy  is 
and  ever  will  be  assured. 


345 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

IT  was  the  twenty-first  day  of  February. 
A  man  whom  I  did  not  know  came  up  to 
me,  and  said,  — 

"  Come,  Gabriel,  I  have  need  of  thee." 

"Who  are  you?"  I  asked  him.  "I  do 
not  recognize  you." 

"  I  am  Augustine  Montoria,"  he  answered. 
"  Am  I  so  much  disfigured  ?  They  told  me 
yesterday  that  you  were  dead.  How  I  envied 
you  !  I  see  that  you  are  as  unfortunate  as  I, 
and  that  you  are  living  still.  Do  you  know, 
my  friend,  what  I  have  just  seen  ?  The  body 
of  Mariquilla.  It  is  in  the  Calle  de  Anton 
Trillo,  at  the  entrance  of  the  garden.  Come, 
and  we  will  bury  her." 

"  I  am  more  in  a  condition  to  be  buried 
myself  than  to  bury  anybody.  Who  does  that 
now?      Of  what  did  this  woman  die  ?  " 

"  Of  nothing,  Gabriel,  of  nothing." 

"  That  is  a  singular  death.  I  do  not  under- 
stand it." 

"  Mariqu ilia's  body  shows  no  wounds,   nor 

346 


Sarao-ossa 

o 

any  of  the  signs  which  the  epidemic  leaves  in 
the  face.  She  hes  as  if  she  had  fallen  asleep. 
Her  face  rests  upon  the  ground,  and  she  holds 
her  hands  to  her  ears  as  if  she  were  shutting 
out  sounds." 

"  She  does  well.  The  noise  of  the  shooting 
disturbed  her.  It  seems  to  me  as  if  I  could 
hear  it  yet." 

"  Come  with  me  and  help  me.  I  have  here 
a  spade." 

I  arrived  with  difficulty  at  the  place  where 
my  friend  and  two  other  comrades  conducted 
me.  My  eyes  did  not  let  me  see  anything 
very  well,  and  I  only  saw  a  shadowy  figure 
stretched  out  there.  Augustine  and  the  other 
two  raised  the  body,  phantom  or  reality,  which 
was  there.  I  believe  I  made  out  her  face,  and 
on  seeing  it  a  great  darkness  fell  upon  my 
soul. 

"  She  has  not  the  slightest  wound,"  said 
Augustine,  "  not  one  drop  of  blood  is  upon 
her.  Her  eyelids  are  not  swollen  like  those 
of  the  people  who  died  of  the  epidemic. 
Mariquilla  has  not  died  of  anything.  Can 
you  see  her,  Gabriel  ?  It  seems  as  if  this 
figure  that  I  hold  in  my  arms  has  never  been 
alive.  It  seems  as  if  she  is  a  beautiful,  waxen 
image  that   I  have  loved  in  my  dreams,  show- 

347 


Saragossa 

ing  herself  to  me  with  life,  speech,  and  action. 
Do  you  see  her?  I  see  that  all  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  street  are  dead.  If  they  were 
alive,  I  would  call  them  to  tell  them  that  I 
loved  her.  Why  did  I  hide  it  like  a  crime  ? 
Mariquilla,  my  wife,  why  didst  thou  die,  with- 
out wounds,  without  sickness  ?  What  is  the 
matter  ?  What  was  it  ?  Where  are  you  now  ? 
Are  you  thinking  ?  Do  you  remember  me  ? 
Do  you  know,  perhaps,  that  I  am  living  ? 
Mariquilla,  Mariquilla,  why  do  I  still  have 
that  which  they  call  life,  and  you  not  ?  Where 
shall  I  find  you,  to  hear  you,  to  talk  with 
you,  and  to  come  to  you  so  that  you  may  see 
me  ?  Everything  is  dark  around  me  since  you 
have  closed  your  eyes.  How  long  will  this 
night  of  my  soul  endure,  this  solitude  in  which 
you  have  left  me  ?  The  earth  is  insupport- 
able to  me.  Despair  possesses  my  soul.  In 
vain  I  call  unto  God  that  He  fill  it  with  Him- 
self. God  does  not  answer  me,  and  since  you 
have  gone,  Mariquilla,  the  universe  is  empty." 

As  he  said  this,  we  heard  a  sound  as  of  many 
people  coming  near. 

"  It  is  the  French.  They  have  taken  pos- 
session of  the  Coso,"  said  one. 

"  Friends,  dig  this  grave  quickly,"  said 
Augustine,    speaking    to    his    two    comrades, 

348 


Saragossa 

who  were  digging  a  great  hole  at  the  foot  of 
the  cypress.  "  If  not,  the  French  will  come, 
and  will  take  her  from  us.'* 

A  man  advanced  along  the  Calle  de  Anton 
Trillo,  and,  stopping  beside  the  ruined  wall, 
looked  in.  I  saw  him,  and  trembled.  He 
was  greatly  changed,  cadaverous,  with  sunken 
eyes  and  uncertain  step.  His  glance  was  with- 
out brilliancy ;  his  body  was  bent ;  and  he 
seemed  to  have  aged  twenty  years  since  last 
I  saw  him.  His  clothing  was  of  rags  stained 
with  blood  and  mire.  In  another  place,  and 
at  another  time,  he  would  have  been  taken  for 
an  octogenarian,  come  to  beg  alms.  He  came 
nearer  to  us,  and  said  in  a  voice  so  feeble  that 
we  could  scarcely  hear,  — 

"  Augustine,  my  son,  what  are  you  doing 
here  ?  " 

"Senor,  my  father,  I  am  burying  Mari- 
quilia,"  replied  Augustine,  without  emotion. 

"  Why  are  you  doing  that  ?  Why  such 
solicitude  for  a  stranger  ?  The  body  of  your 
poor  brother  lies  even  now  unburied  among 
the  patriots.  Why  have  you  separated  your- 
self from  your  mother  and  your  sister  ?" 

"  My  sister  is  surrounded  by  kind  and 
affectionate  people  to  take  care  of  her,  while 
this  one  has  nobody  but  myself." 

349 


Saragossa 

Don  Jose  de  Montoria,  more  gloomy  and 
thoughtful  than  I  had  ever  seen  him,  said 
nothing,  and  began  to  throw  earth  into  the 
grave  where  they  had  placed  the  body  of  the 
beautiful  girl. 

"  Throw  in  earth,  my  son,  throw  in  earth 
quickly  !  "  he  cried,  at  last.  "  All  is  indeed 
over.  They  have  permitted  the  French  to 
enter  the  city,  when  it  might  still  have  been 
defended  a  couple  of  months  more.  These 
people  have  no  soul.  Come  with  me,  and 
we  will  talk  about  yourself.'* 

''  Senor,"  replied  Augustine,  in  firm  tones, 
"  the  French  are  in  the  city.  The  gates  are 
left  free.  It  is  now  ten,  and  at  twelve  I  leave 
Saragossa  to  go  to  the  Monastery  de  Veruela, 
where  I  shall  stay  until  I  die." 

The  garrison,  according  to  the  stipulation, 
were  to  leave  with  military  honors  by  the  Puerta 
del  Portillo.  I  was  so  ill,  so  weakened  by  a 
wound  lately  received,  and  by  hunger  and 
fatigue,  my  comrades  almost  had  to  carry  me. 
I  scarcely  saw  the  French  as  with  sadness  rather 
than  rejoicing  they  took  possession  of  that 
which  had  been  a  city.  It  was  a  city  of  ter- 
rible ruins,  a  city  of  desolation,  worthy  to  be 
mourned  by  Jeremiah  or  sung  by  Homer. 

In  the  Muela,  where  I  stopped  to  recover 

350 


Saragossa 

myself,  Don  Roque  appeared.  He  was  leav- 
ing the  city,  and  feared  being  followed  as 
a  suspect. 

"  Gabriel,"  he  said  to  me, "  I  never  believed 
that  the  French  mob  would  be  so  vile.  I 
hoped  that  in  view  of  the  heroic  defence  of  the 
city,  they  would  be  more  human.  Some  days 
ago  we  saw  two  bodies  which  the  Ebro  was 
hurrying  along  on  its  current.  They  were 
two  victims  of  those  murderous  soldiers  that 
Lannes  commands.  They  were  Santiago  Sas, 
commander  of  those  brave  musketeers  of  the 
parish  of  San  Pablo,  and  Father  Basilio 
Boggiero,  teacher,  friend,  and  counsellor  of 
Palafox.  They  say  that  they  went  and  called 
up  Father  Basilio  at  midnight,  pretending  that 
they  wished  to  intrust  an  important  commission 
to  him  ;  and  then  they  took  him  on  their  treach- 
erous bayonets  to  the  bridge,  where  they  pierced 
him  through,  and  flung  him  into  the  river. 
And  they  did  the  same  with  Sas." 

"  And  our  protector  and  friend,  Don  Jose 
de  Montoria,  what  of  him  ?  " 

"  Thanks  to  the  efforts  of  the  chief-justice, 
he  is  still  alive ;  but  they  want  to  shoot  me,  if 
you  please.  Did  you  ever  see  such  savages  ? 
Palafox,  it  seems,  is  being  taken  a  prisoner  to 
France,  although  they  promised  to  respect  his 

351 


Saragossa 

person.  In  short,  my  boy,  this  is  a  nation  I 
should  not  like  to  meet  in  heaven.  And  what 
do  you  say  to  that  little  barrack-sergeant  of  a 
marshal,  Senor  Lannes  ?  He  does  not  lack 
impudence  to  do  what  he  has  done.  He  has 
taken  the  treasures  of  the  Virgin  del  Pilar,  say- 
ing that  they  were  not  safe  in  the  church. 
After  he  saw  such  a  quantity  of  precious  stones, 
diamonds,  emeralds,  and  rubies,  it  seems  that 
they  got  into  his  eyes,  so  that  he  held  on  to 
them.  In  order  to  hide  his  plundering,  he 
pretends  that  the  junta  has  given  them  to 
him.  Of  a  truth,  I  am  sorry  not  to  be 
young  like  yourself,  so  as  to  fight  against  such 
a  highway  robber.  And  so  Montoria  said 
also,  when  I  took  my  leave  of  him.  Poor 
Don  Jose,  how  sad  it  is!  I  give  him  but  few 
years  of  life.  The  death  of  his  elder  son, 
and  the  resolution  of  Augustine  to  become  a 
priest,  make  him  very  downcast  and  extremely 
melancholy." 

Don  Roque  had  stopped  to  keep  me  com- 
pany for  a  little  time.     And  now  we  separated. 

After  I  recovered,  I   continued  in  the  com- 

paign   of  1809,   taking   part  in   other   battles, 

becoming    acquainted    with    new    people,    and 

establishing  new  friendships,  or  renewing  the 

old. 

352 


Saragossa 

Later,  I  shall  relate  some  things  about  that 
year,  as  Andresillo  Marljuan  told  them  to 
me,  when  I  chanced  upon  him  in  Castile,  as 
I  was  returning  from  Talavera  and  he  from 
Gerona. 


THE    END 


23  353 


:&^tto  iffittion. 

The  Sword  of  Justice. 

By  Sheppard  Stevens.     Author   of  "  I  am  the    King." 
i6mo.      Cloth,  extra.     ^1.25. 

This  stirring  romance  deals  with  the  events  described  by 
Parkman  in  the  first  portion  of  "  Pioneers  of  France  in  the  New 
World,"  beginning  with  the  killing  of  the  Huguenots  at  Fort 
Caroline,  Florida,  and  ending  with  its  avenging  by  Dominique 
de  Gourgues.  The  author  follows  history  with  absolute  accu- 
racy, and  has  given  a  valuable  and  most  interesting  contribution 
to  the  list  of  romances  dealing  with  the  early  history  of  the 
American  Continent. 

The  Count's  Snuff=Box, 

A  Romance  of  Washington  and  Buzzard's  Bay  during  the 

War  of  181 2.    By  George  R.  R.  Rivers,  author  of  "  The 

Governor's    Garden,"     "  Captain    Shays,    a    Populist    of 

1786,"  etc.     Illustrated  by  Clyde  O.  De  Land.     i2mo. 

Cloth,  gilt  top.     ^1.50. 

A  well-conceived  and  well-told  story,  from  which  the  reader  will 
get  an  excellent  idea  of  society  and  manners  in  the  nation's  capital 
nearly  a  century  ago.  —  Boston  Trattscript.  * 

Invisible  Links. 


By  Selma  Lagerlof.  Author  of  '^  Gbsta  Berling,"  The 
Miracles  of  Antichrist,"  etc.  Translated  from  the  Swed- 
ish by  Pauline  Bancroft  Flach.  Crown  8vo.  Cloth, 
extra,  gilt  top.     ^1.50. 

A  new  volume  of  remarkable  stories  by  the  young  Swedish 
writer  whose  other  works  have  been  so  favorably  received  both 
in  America  and  in  England.  It  includes  the  following:  The 
Spirit  of  Fasting  and  Petter  Nord;  The  Legend  of  the  Bird's 
Nest;  The  King's  Grave;  The  Outlaws;  Reor's  Saga;  Valde- 
mar  Atterdag  Levies  a  Contribution  on  Visby ;  Mamsell  Fred- 
rika;  The  Romance  of  a  Fisherwife;  Mother's  Portrait;  A 
Fallen  King;  A  Christmas  Guest;  Uncle  Reuben;  Downy; 
Among  the  Climbing  Roses. 


/  am  the  King. 

Being  the  Account  of  some  Happenings  in  the  life  of 
Godfrey  de  Bersac,  Crusader  Knight.  By  Sheppard 
Stevens.     i6mo.     Cloth,  extra.     ^1.25. 

A  fresh  and  invigorating  piece  of  reading.  —  Nashville  American. 

Characterized  by  those  graceful  touches  which  belong  to  true  and 
pure  romanticism.  —  Boston  Herald. 

It  has  the  straightforwardness  of  the  old-time  story-teller.  —  St. 
Louis  Globe-Democrat. 

The  Kinship  of  Souls. 

A  Narrative.  By  Reuen  Thomas.  i2mo.  Cloth,  extra. 
^1.50. 

A  delightful  story  of  travel,  mingled  with  interesting  discussions 
on  theological  and  philosophical  questions,  as  well  as  pertinent 
observations  on  other  familiar  topics.  .  .  .  The  work  is  one  of  more 
than  ordinary  interest. —  Green  Bag,  Boston. 

Altogether  one  of  the  most  satisfactory,  most  edifying  books  that 
has  come  to  our  table  in  many  a  month.  —  Buffalo  Commercial. 

The  Bronze  Buddha. 

By  Co-RA  Linn  Daniels.  Author  of  "  Sardia,"  etc.  i2mo. 
Decorated    cloth.     ^1.50. 

"  The  Bronze  Buddha  "  is  an  oriental  and  mystical  tale,  the 
element  of  mystery  being  a  strong  quality  of  the  book.  Not- 
withstanding the  character  of  the  story,  its  period  is  the  present 
time,  and  the  events  occur  in  New  York. 

In  Vain. 

By  Henryk  Sienkiewicz.  Translated  from  the  Polish  by 
Jeremiah  Curtin.      i6mo.     Cloth,  extra.     ^1.25. 

A  love  story  of  modern  Poland,  by  the  author  of  "  Quo 
Vadis,"  not  before  translated.  The  scene  is  laid  at  Kieff, 
and  University  life  there  is  described. 

The  Man  Without  a  Country. 

A  new  edition  of  Edward  Everett  Hale's  famous  story,  with 
an  introduction  giving  an  account  of  the  circumstances  and 
incidents  of  its  publication,  and  a  new  preface  by  the 
author,  written  in  the  year  of  the  War  with  Spain.  i6mo. 
Cloth.     50  cents. 

LITTLE,  BROWN,  AND  COMPANY,  Publishers, 

254  WasHngton  Street,  Boston. 


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RETURN  CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
T0~*^  202  Main  Library  642-3403 


LOAN  PERIOD  T 

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This  book  is  due  before  closing  tirtie  on  the  lost  dote  stamped  below 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


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JUL  i  0  20  It 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
FORM  NO.  DD6A,  7m,  3/78  BERKELEY,  CA  94720 


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